The Savior of the Broken
by racefh853629
Summary: And when you're gone, we want you all to know, we'll carry on. Post Living Doll fic, AU. In the wake of Sara's death, the graveyard CSIs have to work together to move on. Only problem is, their newest colleague isn't helping. CHARACTER DEATH WARNING!
1. The End of the Line

A/N: I do not own CSI, CBS, or "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance, which is where the title and summary come from. I do, however, have an OC that will be better introduced in the next chapter... haha. :D This is a tragic story, with a lot of sad parts, so keep that in mind as you read this. I hope you enjoy the ride, and stay along for a while. Please review.

* * *

Prologue: The End of the Line

The funeral was over now, Greg realized, as he remained standing at the foot of the black casket waiting to be lowered. Grissom stood beside him, crying softly, which normally would have seemed weird to Greg, but not today. Catherine and Lindsey were hugging behind Grissom, both sobbing as the final words of the final prayer were uttered. Tina was holding onto a somber, saddened Warrick as Nick stood back a bit from the team, crying but trying not to show it. Greg felt dead inside, numb, and unsure of where to go from here.

As most of the crowd departed, the graveyard CSIs were left alone. Together they stood, no one speaking, all thinking about how they failed to save their beloved colleague. Brass and Sofia remained with them, as did Archie, Mandy, Wendy, Henry, Hodges, Bobby Dawson, and Ecklie. Standing next to Ecklie was someone Greg recognized as a day shift CSI, but he didn't know which one. He didn't really know them anyway.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the former DNA tech turned to face Brass. "Hey, kid," the older detective said.

"Hey," Greg replied quietly.

"How you holdin' up?" The younger man shrugged, looking back at the casket.

"I keep thinking this is just a really bad nightmare that I'll wake up from. Or, at least, I keep hoping that." Brass nodded his understanding.

"It's tough."

"She didn't deserve this."

"No one does." Greg sighed, his heart heavy with regret and words left unspoken.

"I feel really numb," he told the captain quietly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Brass threw his arm around Greg's shoulders, squeezing him gently.

"It really hasn't hit me yet, I don't think. I guess maybe the first shift without her is when it will."

"Yeah." Greg looked back over at Brass, his normally jubilant eyes filled with sadness.

"I don't ever want to forget her," he said softly.

"I don't think I ever will," Brass replied, his voice laced with fondness and recollections.

"She helped me so much more than I think she knew. I just… can't grasp this. I hate Natalie so much."

"We all do. She'll get what she deserves."

"Yeah." Greg sighed again, and Brass gave his shoulders another squeeze. The kid turned his gaze back to the coffin, his face somber with tears not quite ready to fall hiding in the depths of his soul.

"Guys," Grissom began softly, his voice wrenched with sadness and barely carrying above the wind. "You're all invited to dinner at my place tonight." They all nodded as the day shift girl left in tears. Brass patted Greg on the shoulder before letting go and walking away with Sofia. Henry, Mandy, Archie, Wendy, Hodges, and Bobby Dawson left together, Ecklie trailing behind them sadly. Warrick and Tina slowly turned and left, walking painstakingly to their car. Catherine and Lindsey walked over to Grissom, who put the flower in his hand on top of the casket before backing away with the girls and heading for the limo. Nick hung back for a moment before moving his way beside Greg, who glanced over at the older CSI.

"C'mon," Nick said softly.

"In a minute," Greg replied. Nick nodded and, picking up on the fact that Greg wanted to be alone for a minute, backed away again. The young CSI looked sadly at the flowers, wreaths, and casket. The remnants of his fallen idol. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the casket. "We failed, and I'm so sorry. I love you." He placed his hand on the polished, stained black wood. "I'm gonna miss you so much." His voice cracked, but the tears still didn't fall. "Rest in peace, Sara." He backed away, walking over to where Nick was waiting for him. The veteran criminalist looked at Greg briefly before throwing an arm around his shoulders silently, pulling the younger man along with him. They left the cemetery, their physical bodies the only part of them intact and whole as their entire metaphysical and emotional worlds were shattered and irreversibly damaged.


	2. The New Girl

A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity. Catalina Amelia Michelle Isabella Salvatori, referred to as Mia from here on out, is mine. There is some Spanish in this chapter, and the translations are at the bottom. Any and all translations are from freetranslation(dot)com. Enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 1: The New Girl

"Hey, ya'll," Nick said dully as he entered the break room on their first night back at work after Sara's death. The entire shift had been forced to take two weeks of bereavement leave in the aftermath, with the option of taking more. No one took the option, though.

"Hey," Catherine replied. Warrick slapped Nick's back gently, and Nick patted his friend's arm. Greg stared at the powered off TV, oblivious to the fact that anyone else was in the room, let alone that Nick just walked in.

"How's he doin'?" Nick gestured at the zoned out Greg.

"No idea," Warrick replied quietly. Before Nick could try to get Greg's attention, Grissom, Ecklie, and a girl walked in.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Ecklie asked. Nick, Catherine, and Warrick looked at him while Greg continued to be off in his own world. Ecklie frowned, feeling sorry for the kid who wasn't taking Sara's death well at all. "Greg?" he addressed him gently. At hearing his name, Greg jumped and looked at Ecklie. "Thank you. This young lady is Catalina Salvatori." She scowled at Ecklie as he gestured in her direction. "She's going to be your sixth." Nick and Warrick glanced at one another as Catherine whispered something to Grissom. Greg zoned out again, staring at Ecklie's ever-growing bald spot. "She came onto days a little while ago, but she's all yours now." He narrowed his gaze at her briefly before leaving the room. The graveyard CSIs, save Greg, turned their gaze to her.

"Don't, under any circumstances, call me Catalina," she began curtly. "Or Cathy, Cath, Cat, Kitty, Katie, Kate, Lee, Lina, Leeny, or any other variation of Catalina that you can come up with."

"Is there anythin' we can call you?" Nick snapped, annoyed.

"God forbid I hate variations of my first name."

"What the hell do you want us to call you?"

"People call me Amelia, Amie, Aimee, Mia, Lia, Michelle, Chelle, Mischa, Mitch, Elle, or Shelly. Take your fucking pick, Stokes."

"So, you know all of us, but we don't get to know you," Warrick said softly.

"You know all you need to know," Mia replied.

"You knew Sara," Greg said softly. Mia snapped her head to him along with everyone else in the room as he glanced over in her general direction. "You were at the funeral, standing beside Ecklie."

"Yes, I was." The other four bounced their gaze between Mia and Greg. "What's it to you, Sanders?"

"Nothing." Greg turned back to the TV, staring at the blank screen again.

"Good show?"

"Perfect." Before Mia had a chance to piss off everyone else, Grissom cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention except Greg's.

"Nick, you and… uh… Mia have a 419 at Gilbert College. Remember your manners. Catherine, you and Greg have a dead body of your own in the desert. Warrick and I have a B&E in Henderson."

"Great," Nick muttered to himself.

"Let's roll, Porky," Mia said. Nick glared at her.

"I'm driving." The pair left, followed shortly by Grissom and Warrick, both of them going through the motions. Catherine turned to Greg, seeing the young man still staring at the TV.

"Greg?" she said softly.

"Ready when you are," he told her as he stood. She sighed, knowing that he was hurting but wouldn't say anything. She slung her arm around his shoulders, and he sighed. "I'm okay, Catherine."

"I'm worried, Greg."

"I'm fine." She sighed again, letting go of him as they walked out.

Nick and Mia walked into the president's office, and Dr. Gilbert sighed. "You again," she groaned. "Great."

"My name is Mia," Mia signed. Nick looked surprised, and Dr. Gilbert smiled softly. "We're here to help you find out what happened to your student."

"I don't want you guys to make things worse," she signed back. Nick looked at Mia.

"We'll try our best not to. We really want to help."

"I appreciate it and your kindness." Mia smiled sweetly, and Nick looked confused.

"Do you mind showing us to the room?" Dr. Gilbert shook her head. "Thank you. Is there anything we should know about him or his roommate?"

"Michael was a good student," she said aloud. "He was pretty well-liked. There wasn't anyone who really had anything against him. His roommate came in and found him tonight. They were good friends, really cared for each other. It was hard for Jason to see him like that." They reached the room, and Vartann smiled at them sadly.

"Where is Jason now?" Nick asked.

"The library," she replied. "He can only sign, though. He can't read lips."

"Thank you," Mia said. Dr. Gilbert nodded, walking away.

"So, you know sign language?" Nick asked as they got to work.

"No, absolutely not," Mia retorted. Nick groaned.

"Why are you bein' such a bitch?"

"Because I am one. Now, let's not fight at the crime scene." Nick shook his head, aggravated.

"You're new here, so I don't think you understand what myself and the rest of the team is going through."

"Sí, entiendo. Sara fue mi amigo también, usted sabe."

"Really."

"Sí. Ella fue la única persona que trató de saberme."

"That's because you're a bitch."

"No cuando usted me sabe. Usted no me sabe."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Su elección."

"Do you possess the ability to be nice for two minutes?"

"Sí."

"Why don't you use it?"

"Porque yo le odio."

"Usted no me sabe," Nick mocked. Mia grumbled.

"Cállese."

"No."

"Hey, kids," Vartann said. "I've got to use the bathroom. Don't kill each other in foreign languages while I'm gone." The pair didn't hear him, still engrossed in their bilingual argument.

"Yo le odio mucho," Mia growled, her voice full of venom.

"Yo le odio right back at ya!" Nick replied.

"Coma mierda." Nick chose not to respond, selecting instead to process in silence to avoid further arguments. Vartann returned to find them not even speaking, and as nice as he found the lack of argument, the silence was mildly more irritating. After finishing processing and talking with the roommate, Nick and Mia left the dorm. They climbed into the car and were on their way before Nick looked over in her direction. Seeing the depressed Texan watching her, she sighed. "I don't really hate you," she said quietly, looking back out the window.

"I know," he replied. "I've heard about you, how you're tough on everyone, but you rarely hate people."

"You've heard about me, but you didn't know who I was."

"Right."

"Well, let me quell some rumors with you. I don't take drugs, I don't push drugs, I don't drink, and I've never been a prostitute." Nick arched his eyebrows at the last one, and she looked at him. "Don't look like that, Stokes. I get that one a lot."

"Right. Well, that at least takes a few items off the list."

"I'm hard to get along with."

"Oh, believe me, Princess, I've noticed." She groaned.

"I don't hate you right now, but you're pushing me toward it."

"Well, I wish you'd be nicer. For Christ's sake, we're goin' through hell, and you're makin' it worse!"

"Would you rather have me be all kind and gentle and not be me so that when you guys are all feeling better, I can go back to myself and have you guys all wondering what happened? Or would you rather get to know me for who and what I really am right off the bat?"

"You don't have to be this way, Mia. You can change." She snorted, shaking her head.

"Take off your rose colored glasses, Stokes. The nice people are the ones that get shit on the most." Realizing that she had divulged more than she had wanted, she turned to the window, steeling herself from saying anything else. Nick glanced over at her, and by the look on her face, he knew he wasn't getting more out of her. Sighing, he looked back out the windshield. He knew from the second Grissom had assigned him to work with her, there was going to be a problem. He made a mental note to tell Grissom to never pair the two of them again. Judging by the fact that they fought at a crime scene, though, Grissom would know better. Nick shook his head, pulling into his spot at the lab. This was shaping up to be a long night.

* * *

Translations:

"Yes, I understand. Sara was my friend too, you know."

"Yes. She was the only person who tried to know me."

"Not when you know me. You don't know me."

"Your choice."

"Because I hate you."

"You don't know me."

"Shut up."

"I hate you a lot."

"I hate you."

"Eat shit."


	3. Mourning

A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity. Mia is mine. So, is no one actually liking this story? Because I've only gotten one review [which, by the way, immense thanks :D. If you're liking it, or even hating it, please let me know. Because it's discouraging to not hear from you. At any rate, this chapter's a little more sad, but enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 2: Mourning 

Grissom walked into his empty townhouse, dropping his keys on the side table by the door. The one Sara had suggested they get. He frowned, the thought of her comforting and depressing at the same time. Bruno, their dog, padded his way into the entry at hearing his master's return. He stood a little distance away from Grissom, wagging the back half of his body in lieu of his tail. Grissom hung up his coat before walking over to the dog. "Hey, Bruno," he said softly. "You been a good boy?" He scratched the dog between the ears, and Bruno licked his hand in appreciation. Grissom patted the dog before moving further into the house.

Her stuff still took up its former residence in the nooks and crannies of his house. He didn't have the heart to move it, and didn't think he ever would. Three weeks after her death, and he couldn't will himself to do anything. He was barely sleeping, barely eating, and by the looks of his team, he wasn't the only one.

Sighing, he poured himself a glass of wine and picked up a book off a shelf in the living room. Glasses perched on his nose and Bruno curled up on the couch beside him, he began to read without realizing what he had picked up. As he read the opening lines of Romeo and Juliet for what had to be the thousandth time, he found himself unable to continue. He put the book down, took off his glasses, and sighed.

Three weeks ago, they had found the love of his life trapped under a car. Three weeks ago, she was pronounced dead at the scene. Vegas's finest had failed. As the paramedics backed away from the body, he turned to his team, the tears streaming down his face masked by the pouring rain. Their reactions to the news were something he would never get out of his brain. They formed a huddle in the middle of the desert with Brass and Sofia, all of them distraught beyond belief. They had failed.

Any other time a team member had been in danger, everything had turned out okay. Nick had been found before he suffocated, Greg had survived the explosion and getting beaten up. It seemed as though this time, their luck had run out.

Grissom allowed himself to not just cry, but sob over his lost love. So young, so full of life, all of that taken away by a psycho with a penchant for building tiny models. He felt his life falling apart, his team falling apart, and none of it mattered. Sara wasn't here, and that's what killed him most of all.

* * *

Catherine walked into her empty house, dropping her keys onto the side table by the door. Lindsey was at school and her mother was at her own house. Sighing, she dropped her pocketbook onto the coat rack along with her jacket. She walked into her living room and sank into the couch cushions. 

Three weeks since Sara died, and she was having trouble sleeping, couldn't eat, and she knew the boys were feeling the same. The team had gotten to the point where they were barely speaking to each other. There were no more after shift breakfasts, before shift dinners, or chatter in the break room. It was go in, solve the crime, leave with everything hopefully the same as before, go home, pretend to eat and sleep, and start again.

That night in the desert had changed everyone. They had rushed to the scene to find the paramedics backing away, shaking their heads. They had lost her under that car. She was dead when they got there, and their attempts to revive her did nothing. Catherine remembered looking at the faces of her team members as she held a broken Grissom. Nick was angrier than she'd ever seen him, and Warrick was crying. Greg stood there, silent, letting the rain pound his face, watching in horror. Brass and Sofia had stood next to each other, both crying as well.

She allowed herself to not just cry, but sob over everything. Sara's death, the family she once had falling apart around her. It killed her, and she didn't know if they'd ever be a family again. Nick and Greg had long been the glue that held the team together, but their ability to do so had apparently been lost that fateful night.

Wiping away her tears, she resolved to start making things right. Starting with Grissom. She picked up her phone and dialed his number. Upon hearing him answer in tears, she said "Grissom, it's Catherine. I was wondering if you wanted to do something…"

* * *

Nick sat on his couch, staring at the TV. For three weeks he had come home and done the same thing- sit by himself and stare at the TV. He'd catch naps on the couch, maybe pick up something to eat on the way home from work, but the middle cushion of his couch had become forever pressed into the shape of his rear-end. 

Three weeks. Three long, excruciating weeks of missing Sara, hating her killer, going to funeral services, and watching the unique bond of the team fall apart. He knew Greg and he were the two that could weather the team through everything with strength and laughter, but Nick was fresh out of both. He felt sucked dry, like the victim of a particularly thirsty vampire.

The only things still in him were pain and anger. He hurt for himself, his friends, the loss of Sara. He raged at Natalie for taking away a good friend of his. It wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Sara was too good of a person to meet her end like that.

They had failed. More than anything, that was a resounding theme with him. They hadn't failed in finding him buried underground, but when it came to Sara under a car in the desert, they had failed. They had failed, and she was dead. And that made Nick hurt more than anything.

* * *

Warrick sat on his couch, staring at the TV. Tina sat next to him, massaging his shoulder gently. Him, like the rest of the team, hadn't been taking Sara's death well. This had become a daily occurrence- the two of them sitting together, Warrick upset and Tina trying to comfort him by rubbing his shoulder. 

Three weeks, and he hadn't eaten much, hadn't slept much. Tina kept threatening to sedate him and make him sleep, but she hadn't made good on that yet. There was still time, though, according to her. Warrick didn't say much of anything, and Tina wasn't going to push the issue either. She knew that this was the way he was, and he knew he could always talk to her about anything.

He rested his head back, finding hers. They had failed Sara, he knew that, and he hated that more than anything. The team was falling apart because they had failed to save their beloved colleague. He sighed softly, and Tina kept rubbing his shoulder. He needed to break this, get out of this habit. With a quick word to Tina about what he was thinking, she agreed with his plan as he grabbed the phone.

"Nick? It's Warrick. I was wonderin' if you wanted to hang out…"

* * *

Greg felt awkward standing there, so he sat down. He brought his knees to his chest as he rolled back onto his bed, crashing into the pillows at the head. He knew the entire team was falling apart, and that his humor usually could get them through everything. But the humor had gone three weeks ago when he, along with the rest of the team, had failed to save Sara. 

Seeing the paramedics back away from her lifeless body proved to be more than he could stand. He felt as though part of him died that day, the part that was all about living life and being happy. He wasn't sure where he was going, what he was doing, anything anymore. He was feeling more and more like the odd-man out.

Status linked Grissom and Catherine, both being supervisors to some degree. Plus, they were both almost the parents of the team. Nick and Warrick had been best friends long before Greg had gotten out into the field, and throughout all the trials and tribulations that had come. Greg had bonded, had always fit in well with them, but he didn't feel like he should be there now.

He sighed, keeping his knees to his chest as the numbness continued its stranglehold on his emotions. There was nothing more he could do. He couldn't take his mind off of it, so he sat there, in the dark, staring at the window. This had become his life. He was alone.

* * *

Mia felt awkward standing there, so she sat down. She looked at the two other girls on either side of her, sighing softly. Three weeks, and she was in her second set of funeral services for a friend of hers. On either side of her were Alex's biological sisters, but Mia had always been a surrogate sister since the two of them had met in boarding school in Italy. Even after Mia had left school, she and Alex had still been best friends. 

Mia excused herself, walking out of the memorial before the mass for the quietness of another room. The hustle and bustle was getting to her, and she had just come off a particularly aggravating shift. This time, Catherine had gotten to her, and she had quickly realized that there was no one on that team that she could really work with.

Except maybe Sanders, but it didn't matter, because he wasn't allowed an underling just yet. When he became a level 2, though, things could be different. Mia didn't care either way. She allowed herself to cry, alone in the sanctity of the room, away from the crowds. She had lost two good friends in a matter of three weeks.

Mia had first met Sara when Ecklie had forced them to sit down together. In the director's opinion, Mia was a lot like Sara, and so Mia was forced to stay late while Sara had to come early while the two of them chatted. It ended up working out decently, because they did have commonalities and Sara was good at helping Mia out.

Mia hadn't been part of the team that found Sara, for which she was thankful. She would never want to see Sara like that. For the same reason, she was glad she hadn't seen Alex that way either. She had already been transferred off of days by that point, and it had fallen into their domain. She had known, though, that they had ruled it an accident. Mia was okay with that, but it still hurt that Alex was gone. Her soul sister had left her. She was alone.


	4. Level 2 Trips

A/N: I don't own anyone or anything but Mia. I'm sorry about the slow updates, but I have had little to no time lately. My life is chaotic... lol. Anyway, here's the next installment. There's Spanish in this one, and any and all translations will appear at the end of the chapter, so as to not disturb the flow of the chapter. I hope you all enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 3: Level 2 Trips

Greg walked into the break room, his eyes trained on the floor. Nick, Warrick, Catherine, Mia, and Grissom, who had all arrived early that night, watched him curiously. "Greg?" Grissom said.

"I'm fine," Greg replied, his gaze never leaving the floor.

"Greg, please." The young CSI obliged, looking up. While he barely noticed the party set up for him, his friends took in every bruise and cut on his face. No one spoke for a minute, until Mia finally broke the silence.

"Holy shit, kid," she said, walking forward toward Greg. "You okay?"

"Fine," Greg repeated.

"What happened, sweetie?" Her voice was soft, surprising Greg as she brushed her soft hand over his swollen cheek gently. He had never heard her talk so sweetly before.

"I tripped over my neighbor's dog and fell down the stairs." She arched her eyebrows.

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Ask my landlord. She'll tell you."

"Kid, I don't even fucking trust you. I sure as hell ain't gonna trust your landlord." He shrugged.

"Fine, don't. I don't care. It's on surveillance video anyway."

"Did you get checked out?" Nick asked as Mia backed away.

"Yeah, Edna made me," Greg said. "I'm fine. It's all superficial, except for my bruised ego." They chuckled as Greg finally recognized the party stuff. "Umm, guys, what's going on here?"

"Well, not the kind of surprise we were hoping to give you," Catherine said.

"Congratulations, Greg," Grissom said. "You are now officially a CSI 2."

"Thanks," he said, smiling. Everyone except for Mia threw in their congrats, with the latter giving him a smile and a wink.

"Your first assignment as a 2 is a 419 with Warrick out on Boulder Highway. Nick, you and Mia have an assault and please, behave and no bilingual fights tonight. Catherine and I have a body on the Strip."

"Good luck," Warrick told Nick, giving him a 'glad I'm not you' smile.

"Thanks," Nick deadpanned. "I'm gonna need it."

"Let's go, Tex," Mia snapped, causing Nick to groan as he followed her out of the break room. Greg chuckled at Nick's childlike response.

"You've never worked a case with her, have you?" Warrick asked as Grissom and Catherine left the room.

"No," Greg replied. "She's only been with us for two weeks."

"When you do work a case with her, you'll understand where he's coming from."

"She doesn't seem that bad."

"She is."

"Well, I won't be able to know for myself until we have a huge case or until I'm a 3… right?"

"Don't ask me, man. We didn't really have any 1s stick around long when I was a 2. Remember?" Greg nodded. "You'd have to ask Grissom, but I'd imagine that since you seem to be the only one remotely fond of the idea of working with her, he might let it slide."

"Why doesn't anyone like working with her?"

"She's aggravating, argumentative, and if you believe day shift, she's suicidal. Wait until you work with her. Cath, Nick, and I all have, and it's been pretty bad."

"What does Grissom think?" Warrick shrugged.

"No one knows for sure, but I don't think he's wildly fond of her either."

"I'm pretty sure Ecklie hates her too."

"Oh, no doubt. Ecklie hates everyone."

"Yeah, I know. He used to rag on me when I would cover days as a tech. Didn't get much better when I moved into the field, and it continues to get worse." He sighed, and Warrick shook his head.

"Hey, don't think like that. Our crime's sad enough. Don't depress yourself now."

"Right. Let's roll." Warrick shook his head at Greg's phrase as they left for their scene.

* * *

"Victim's at the hospital," Brass told Mia and Nick as they arrived. "Her name's Patricia Jackson, age 18."

"A kid," Nick muttered sadly.

"Scene's all yours."

"Great. Let's go, Starshine." Mia grumbled.

"Right behind you, Chubby Cheeks," she replied. Nick groaned. "Hey, don't start somethin' if you're not prepared for it to come back."

"Whatever." They walked into the house quietly, saying nothing to each other as they began to work.

"I haven't seen anything like this in a while," Brass whispered to Nick.

"What?" he replied, matching Brass's volume.

"Silent processing?"

"Cuts down on the screamin' matches in multiple languages." Brass nodded, knowing that the story of Nick and Mia's first night together had already gotten through homicide at least twice in the two weeks since, with tales of Mia's crazy antics growing each time.

"She that bad?"

"I'd rather work with Ecklie." He chuckled.

"I've never had the delight of seeing her in action. What makes her so bad?"

"I don't take any shit," she said from her spot across the room. She whipped her head around and looked Brass square in the eye. "And I have really good hearing." Brass nodded, half-smiling to himself.

"Right. Well, I'm going to go talk to the neighbors." Nick nodded, and the pair continued processing without a sound. After a while, Mia spoke.

"I've got semen," she uttered, her voice almost inaudible. Nick stopped, turning and looking over at her as she sat back on her feet, rubbing her face with her ungloved wrist.

"Sexual assault?" he asked.

"Looks like it." Her voice sounded almost sad, Nick realized, but he let it go.

"When you're processin' the vic, make sure to do a SART exam."

"Right." She swabbed the semen, putting it in her kit as Nick walked closer, watching her critically.

"You okay?" She looked over to find him about four feet away.

"Yeah, fine." She stood up slowly, and Nick grabbed her arm gently. She flinched, but Nick didn't notice.

"You sure?" She nodded before looking up at his concerned eyes.

"I'm fine, Tubbawubba," she told him, her voice carrying its usual ice. He smiled softly at its return.

"Alright, cool," he said, letting go of her arm.

"I think we're finished here."

"Yeah, I think we're just about good. Let's head over to the hospital." She nodded, grabbing her stuff and packing up. "I'll see you at the car."

"Don't threaten me." He chuckled, and she arched her eyebrows. "That wasn't a joke."

"I'm sorry. I'm amused that you're a little more human today than normal." She shook her head.

"Of course you'd find that amusing."

"You know, if there's somethin' wrong and you need to talk…"

"I'm fine." Her voice was like liquid nitrogen, causing Nick to shake his head. As tiny as she was, she sure knew how to freeze and cut through people.

"Right. I'll be out in a bit."

"Don't disappear again, Pudge." She sauntered out the door, and he shook his head.

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?" Brass said as he walked in.

"You can say that again," Nick replied, packing up.

"All done?"

"Pretty much. Just got one more thin'." Nick took one last swab before tucking it away in his kit.

"You guys work fast."

"She does." Brass raised his eyebrows.

"Quicker isn't always better."

"She's fast and thorough, surprisin'ly. She's a better CSI as a 1 than Ecklie ever was, and she does it in about the same amount of time." He tilted his head in confusion.

"How?"

"Damned if I know."

"Huh."

"Yeah." Nick finished packing up.

"Where'd she go?"

"Over to the car. We're headin' to the hospital so she can process the vic." Brass nodded. "We'll be in touch."

"Alright. Take care and good luck."

"Thanks." Nick patted Brass on the shoulder as he walked out to his car and to Mia. She sat quietly in the front seat, her feet up on the dashboard, bringing her knees into her chest. She watched out the window quietly at Nick climbed in. "You sure you're okay?" he asked her as he closed the door.

"I'm fine," she replied, glancing quickly over at him. "Now start the damn car so we can process that girl." Nick shrugged, turning the engine over and driving to Desert Palms. Their drive was short and silent.

"I'm gonna get this stuff over to the lab so they can start," he said softly. "Call when you need a ride."

"Okay," she said as she got out. As she walked in the parking lot, a man called to her.

"I need help!" he said, blood covering his shirt. Nick watched from the car, having not moved yet, as Mia walked over to the man.

"What happened to you, sir?" she asked, seemingly caring and comforting. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine, but you're not, Miss Salvatori." He pulled out a gun, pointing it at her. Nick quickly radioed in the situation, calling for immediate backup. "If I were you, I wouldn't go into that hospital. I know why you're here."

"Really? You do?"

"You're here to process Trish. She's fine, just clumsy."

"Right. She just happened to nakedly fall on your exposed dick." He cocked the gun, holding it a foot from her face. Nick quietly slipped out of the car, more concerned about his coworker's safety than the possible broken chain of custody. "Am I supposed to be scared?"

"I'll fucking kill you if you move, bitch."

"Go ahead," she said, taking a step closer. The man's finger flinched on the trigger as she lunged for him, knocking him back. He hit her across the face with the gun before rolling over on top of her. He thrust the gun under her chin as Nick drew his own weapon. "You know, I'm not scared. I don't think you have the balls to shoot me."

"Oh really."

"Shooting makes it final, which means you can't hurt me anymore. It's pointless. You can't control me, can't make me suffer, not if I'm already dead. So pulling the trigger is pointless for you. But, if I'm still alive, and if I'm afraid, you can do whatever you want with me, because you know my fear would make me your submissive. Except for one thing. I'm not afraid of you. You want to kill me? Go ahead." His finger again twitched on the trigger, and she shook her head. "No ball pussy loser."

Nick could hear every taunting word Mia was saying, and wondered to himself how she hadn't been killed yet. He took another step closer, almost upon the pair now as he saw her fight again, swinging wildly at her assailant. Unprepared, he flew backward, and Mia pinned him to the pavement briefly before the man's adrenaline kicked in, sending her off of him again. He had the upper hand again as he held her hands above her head with one of his, using his legs to pin hers.

"Now what are you gonna try?" he teased her. She swallowed, glaring at the man.

"I'm still not afraid of you, you chicken shit cock sucker." The gun found its way under her chin again as Nick cleared his throat.

"Drop your weapon," he growled at the man menacingly. The guy chuckled.

"Oh, so her knight in shining armor has arrived?" he grunted.

"I don't need him," she said.

"Right. Who's got the upper hand now?"

"Drop your weapon!" Nick repeated. The man stood up, whipping Mia in front of him as a shield from Nick's gun.

"Whatcha gonna do now, Pig?" he taunted, holding Mia. She gave Nick a calm, sadistic smile as she lifted her leg and kicked the guy in the nuts. The attacker dropped to the ground, groaning in pain as he shot Mia in the ankle, making her crash to the pavement. Nick shot the man's firing hand, causing him to relinquish the weapon. Nick ran over, pinning the man on the ground quickly. Mia arched her eyebrows as backup arrived on the scene and took the guy from Nick.

"You okay?" Nick asked her, walking over and crouching down next to her where she had fallen.

"You only shot his hand?" she retorted. He shook his head.

"I wouldn't have had to shoot him at all if you weren't content on baiting him."

"Oh, come on. You're the only other person out here. You would've had to do something."

"Backup was on its way." He helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as they hobbled toward the hospital.

"So what, I was supposed to just let him control me?"

"You've gotta be calm and rational in these situations, Mia. Think things through."

"He wouldn't have killed me."

"You don't know that. Dammit, Mia, do you realize what you just did? You almost got yourself killed tonight because you had to fight with him!"

"He came after me first! I'm sorry I wasn't about to just give in to him!"

"You don't understand. We just lost a CSI four weeks ago! Do you know what losing another would do to us right now? Don't you get it?"

"How the hell am I the bad guy in this, Stokes? Rationalize that for me." They reached the hospital doors, and Mia grunted as a medical team brought her a wheelchair. Nick walked with her.

"Usted no tuvo que luchar con él," he told her, his voice laced with anger. The hospital staff listened quietly, understanding less than half of what he was saying.. "Usted no tuvo que provocarlo y lo hace peor."

"Sandeces," she replied. "El habría tratado de matarme de cualquier manera."

"Usted no sabe eso."

"Nick, por favor. El tipo fue meado y desesperado pararme de procesamiento de a su novia. El habría tratado de matarle también si usted había sido el un entrar."

"El tipo fue espantado, yo le daré ese tanto. Pero usted es el que hizo todo peor!" Mia looked at him quizzically.

"¿En vez de gritar en mí, no debe estar usted agradecido que estoy bien?" Nick sighed softly, a frown working its way onto his face.

"Usted tiene razón," he said softly. "Lo siento. Es apenas que yo no quiero mirar mis amigos bajan gunned delante de mí, especialmente cuando ellos incitan al pistolero."

"¿Usted piensa que esto es mi defecto?" she asked, looking at him.

"No, nada en absoluto. Sé que es su. Acabo de pensar que usted no necesitó añadir a la situación aquí. Nosotros le podríamos haber perdido esta noche, y eso me espantó, así que sé que he estado diciendo y continuaré probablemente decir muchas cosas que yo luego no significaré."

"¿Eso es su vida aunque... no es?" He chuckled softly, a smile working onto his face. She smiled softly.

"Cállese." She smiled wider. "Si eso es mi vida, entonces suyo es todo acerca de problemas de causa, meando personas lejos, y tratando de conseguirlo mató." She tilted her head to the side, thinking.

"Sí, eso acerca de las sumas arriba." Nick shook his head.

"¿Por qué¿Por qué hace usted esto?" She shrugged.

"Tantas razones." He arched his eyebrows, and she shook her head. "¿La mirada, yo soy bien, así que por qué no ase usted mi juego para mí y para la hoja con las enfermeras o con algo? Vuelva al laboratorio y consiga las muestras analizadas. Procesaré a la víctima tan pronto como yo soy hecho aquí."

"No, llamaré Catherine de procesar a la chica. Grissom le hará va a casa cuando él averigua lo que sucedió. ¿Usted sabe eso, el derecho?" She shrugged.

"Quizá no, pero traer Catherine en quizás sea una idea buena, desde que la evidencia es la clase de tiempo sensible. Hable con Brass también. El debe saber lo que sucedió." Nick nodded.

"Hecho. ¿Ah, y Mia?"

"¿Sí?"

"Estoy contento que usted es bien. ¿Pero si usted incita jamás a un hombre armado como eso otra vez, yo gravemente le doleré. ¿Entendió?" She chuckled bitterly.

"Whatever, Fatass." Nick pursed his lips, shaking his head.

"Glad to have you back. Take care." She nodded as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Translations:

"You didn't have to fight with him. You didn't have to provoke him and make it worse."

"Bullshit. He would've tried to kill me anyway."

"You don't know that."

"Nick, please. The man was scared and desperate to stop me from processing his girlfriend. He would've tried to kill you too if you were the one going in."

"The man was scared, I'll give you that. But you're the one that made it worse."

"Instead of yelling at me, shouldn't you be happy I'm alright?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's just that I don't like to watch my friends get gunned down in front of me, especially when they're taunting the gunman."

"You think this is my fault?"

"No, not at all. I know it's his. I just think that you didn't need to add to the situation here. We could've lost you tonight, and that scared me, so I know that I've been saying and will continue to say things that I later won't mean."

"That's your life… isn't it?"

"Shut up. If that's my life, then yours is all about causing problems, pissing people off, and trying to get yourself killed."

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

"Why? Why do you do this?"

"Many reasons. Look, I'm alright, so why don't you grab my kit for me and leave it with the nurses or something? Go back to the lab and get the samples analyzed. I'll process the victim as soon as I'm done here."

"No, I'm going to call Catherine to process the girl. Grissom is going to make you go home when he finds out what happened. You know that, right?"

"Maybe not, but bringing in Catherine might be a good idea, since the evidence is time sensitive. Talk with Brass, too. He should know what happened."

"Done. Oh, and Mia?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're alright. But if you ever taunt an armed man like that again, I will seriously hurt you. Understood?"

Again, please review. :D


	5. Inevitable Discussions

A/N: I only own Mia, no one or nothing else. This chapter happens pretty shortly after the last one, and has more Spanish, which will appear at the bottom. Also, I would absolutely love to hear what you guys are thinking and feeling on this, so don't leave me hanging here! Please review!

* * *

Chapter 4: Inevitable Discussions

"Nick!" Grissom called to him as he walked out of Trace. Nick stopped, waiting for his boss to catch up to him.

"What's up, Griss?" he asked.

"How's Mia?"

"She's fine. Should be here soon."

"Judy'll send her to my office when she gets here. Come with me." Nick nodded, following him into his office. "Sit down, please." Nick closed the door before taking a seat across the desk from Grissom. "What happened, Nicky?"

"I was droppin' her off to process our victim when someone was callin' out to her. I stuck around 'cuz I didn't know who he was or anythin', and I wanted to make sure she'd be okay. He started comin' after her, so I radioed for backup before I…" His voice trailed off, and Grissom arched his eyebrows.

"You what?"

"Left the evidence in the car to help her." He looked down, thinking about all the possible ways Grissom could react to that. The older man watched Nick in silence.

"Go on," he said after a moment. Nick sighed.

"So they were fightin', and the guy had a gun, so I told him to drop it. He instead tried to use Mia as a shield, who then kicked him in the groin. He dropped and shot her in the ankle, so I shot his hand to get him to drop the gun. Backup arrived, so I got Mia into the hospital." Grissom nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left the evidence."

"Mia needed you. You did fine, Nick."

"Will the defense and the courts see it that way?" Grissom shrugged.

"We'll know soon."

"So I might've just botched the case."

"You still have the evidence from the victim from Catherine." Nick nodded. "Don't worry."

"At least the car didn't get stolen," Nick deadpanned. Grissom smiled.

"Yeah, be glad for that." Nick half-smiled. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You made sure she was okay, and that's what's important."

"I yelled at her," he said softly. Grissom watched him, not entirely surprised.

"When?" the supervisor asked. "At the scene?"

"No, in the parking lot… and then in the hospital." Grissom sighed softly.

"What do you mean, you yelled at her?"

"Lectured her… in two languages…"

"Why?" Nick shrugged.

"I don't know. I freaked out when I saw the guy attacking her, and you know Mia, you know she never shuts up."

"What do you mean?"

"She was taunting the guy, saying he had no balls, wouldn't shoot her, stuff like that. And even if she is right on that, she doesn't need to tell him that. We just lost Sara four weeks ago, and we came this close to losing Mia, too." Nick held his forefinger a millimeter above his thumb, emphasizing his point. "We can't lose another team member." Grissom nodded sadly as a soft knock resounded from his door. He looked at Nick, who nodded.

"Come in," he said to the door. Mia finagled her way in using the crutches the doctor gave her.

"Judy said you wanted to see me when I got back," she said curtly. Nick gave Grissom a look that said 'no, she hasn't changed,' and Grissom nodded.

"Yes, please Mia, have a seat." She sat in the chair next to Nick, who shifted in his chair.

"Should I leave?" he asked. Grissom shook his head.

"No," he told Nick. "I just need to get her statement on what happened too. Unless she wants you to leave, you're welcome to stay."

"His Royal Roundness doesn't need to leave," she said. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Why do you keep calling me things like that?" She grinned.

"Yo sólo escojo los yo quiero." Nick shook his head.

"Usted no me quiere." She grinned evilly.

"Usted no sabe eso."

"Oh, viene en. Usted no quiere nadie. Usted odia el mundo entero." Her mouth twisted into an aggravated frown.

"Nick, yo no odio el mundo entero. Tengo a amigos, las personas que quiero. He tenido a novios en el pasado. Así que no me dice odio el mundo entero. Además, yo le dije antes, tengo mis razones."

"Eso sacude." She shook her head as Grissom watched the two of them curiously. Nick sighed softly. "Lo siento. Esto vuelve a lo que decía más temprano acerca de no significar lo que digo." She shook her head again.

"It's cool." Nick nodded, and Grissom watched them a moment longer.

"You two done fighting in Spanish?" he asked. Both of them nodded. "Good. Mia, what happened at the hospital?"

"I got out of the car, and some guy was calling for me and telling me he needed help," she said. "His shirt was covered in blood, so I asked him what was wrong, and he pulled a gun on me and told me that our victim tripped and that there was no need to process her. He hit me a few times, I defended myself, he shot my ankle and Nick shot his hand."

"Is that it?"

"Well, I may have taunted him a bit, but I knew he wouldn't shoot me. If he didn't shoot his girlfriend whose ass he was kicking, there was no way he was gonna kill me. He wanted to control me, except I'm not afraid of a gun."

"Why not?" She shrugged carelessly.

"Part of the job, getting guns shoved in our faces. If we're gonna freak out every time we get shot at or have a gun drawn on us, what the hell kind of cops are we?"

"We're criminalists. We're there for the evidence."

"We're told to carry guns for a reason." Grissom looked over at Nick, who was staring at the floor with an intense curiosity.

"Mia…"

"Yeah, I know. We shouldn't bait, snap at, or shoot suspects. We're supposed to behave professionally and impartially. But, I'm sorry, if my life is on the line like that, I'm going to do whatever I want because in the end, I'm the one that ends up screwed."

"What about your friends and colleagues?" Nick piped in softly. Mia looked over at him. "Look, as much as you want to think your actions only affect you, you're wrong. We're the ones that are gonna be left behind when all's said and done."

"You guys all hate me anyway," she said bitterly. He sighed.

"You're a hard person to get along with, and we're not used to that. We don't hate you." Grissom looked at Nick critically, something that didn't go unnoticed by Mia.

"Two weeks ago, you were in here complaining about me and how much you hate me. How much you never wanted to work with me again. How much I aggravated you. I haven't done anything in the span of two weeks to make you change your mind. So where do you come off saying that you guys don't hate me? I think Sanders is the only one that remotely tolerates me, and that's because 'he hasn't worked with me.'"

"How'd you know what I was saying two weeks ago?"

"You weren't exactly talking quietly there, Nick. Plus, Wendy likes me, is one of my best friends, and she heard every word, so she told me." Nick sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"And rather than being happy I was okay earlier, you yelled at me and blamed me for getting shot. And while I'll give you that maybe I did contribute a little bit, you and I both know that still wouldn't have changed the outcome. You all hate me, and that's okay, because I'm not fond of you guys either. You don't want me here because that means that Sara's death is real. I get that. I get that it also never occurred to you guys that I don't want to be here either." She stood up with her crutches. "If you need me, I'll be in DNA with the one person in this lab that actually enjoys my presence."

"We're not done," Grissom said. Mia sat down, and Nick stood up. "You're not done here either, Nick." He sighed, sitting back down. "We can't have you two keep fighting like this. We need a resolution." Nick nodded, and Mia failed to react. "You're right, Mia. This situation isn't ideal, but there's nothing else we can do than move through it. Which means we all have to stick it out." She nodded slowly. "As far as the team goes, we'll find a way to work this out so everyone's happy, but two weeks isn't enough time to blend in. It's not that we don't welcome you, it's just that the situation's awkward."

"You know what?" Mia said. "That's the only situation I've ever been thrust in here in Vegas. I was only brought into this lab because Keppler was killed, so Days was down a man again. This is my life here, blending in when people get killed."

"You haven't blended in well with us," Nick said quietly.

"You guys aren't much of a team anymore anyway. You guys have pretty much paired off here- Grissom and Catherine, Nick and Warrick. Poor Greg's left alone in a lab where even the techs have a best friend to turn to at the moment. And, I'm sorry, you expect me to blend into the team and family? What team and family? I bet you all blame me for tearing you guys apart, even though it was like that when I got here. The team that normally soldiers through triumphs and tragedies together as a family has fallen apart, and you're worried about me? My behavior?"

"You're a part of the team. You're here, you work with us, you help us, and you benefit and supplement us. That's a team, and you've become an asset to it, whether or not you realize it. We're worried about your suicidal tendencies." She sighed.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Not try to kill yourself. Oh, and be a little more human and a lot less two-faced."

"I am human, and I'm not two-faced with people that truly matter, like my colleagues and friends. You guys know who and what I am. It's not the best thing for people who are having the worst day of their lives."

"How about your colleagues who're going through hell?" She sighed.

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry, alright? I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted you guys to know the real me, not the fake one."

"What's real and what's fake, Mia?" Grissom asked softly. "Do you even know anymore?"

"What?" she asked him, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Is what we're seeing the real you, or the fake one?"

"Real."

"Dudo eso," Nick said softly.

"¿Qué?"

"Yo no pienso que esto es el verdadero usted. Pienso el verdadero usted es lo que vemos en las escenas, cuando usted habla a las víctimas. Usted tiene miedo para dejar entrar personas, atemorizado confiar, así que usted esconde detrás de su actitud mala. Las personas no querrán saberle sinceramente si ellos piensan que usted es una ramera.

"Y si ellos no le saben, entonces usted no cuida, y ellos no le pueden doler," Nick continued. "Usted no puede conseguir cerca a ellos, así que cuando usted los pierde, no son nada. Usted duele como son. Usted me dijo que hace dos semanas. Y juzgando del hecho que esa deuda morosa dijo que usted estuvo como esto también, yo diría que algo sucedió a usted hace mucho tiempo que realmente le dolió. Usted es espantado. Usted piensa que si usted es agradable, las personas le dolerán y le utiliza, y usted no quiere que eso suceda, así que usted lo separa con un muro detrás de su comportamiento. ¿Tengo razón yo?" She sighed, nodding. Nick sighed softly. "Why?"

"It's none of your business," she said.

"It is if I can help."

"It's too late, Nick. You can't help me now." He shook his head.

"It's never too late."

"With me, it is." Nick sighed, knowing he wasn't getting anywhere. Grissom looked between his two CSIs, wondering half of what they just said. "I'll try to be better and less… suicidal… okay? Can I go now?" Grissom nodded, and she left his office. He looked at Nick.

"What did you say to her?" he asked.

"I just told her what I thought about her," Nick replied. "What I figured out and stuff."

"And she agreed with your assessment?"

"Yeah."

"Well…?"

"Well…"

* * *

Brass sifted through the paperwork on his desk, signing in the appropriate places and putting anything that required a little more work off in the corner. Greg knocked softly on the door, causing the detective to look up. "You got a minute?" he asked softly.

"Sure, kid," Brass replied, pushing his paperwork to the side. It had waited this long. It could wait a little longer. Greg, on the other hand, didn't look like he could. "What brings you over this way?"

"I just wanted to talk to someone. I mean, Grissom has Catherine, Nick has Warrick, Henry and Wendy are close in proximity, so are Mandy and Archie, and Bobby Dawson and Hodges. I feel like I'm the odd man out on the Ark." Brass curled his eyebrows toward his nose.

"Ark?"

"You know, Noah's Ark. Everyone's paired off, and the only one left is me. And you and Sofia are here, you know? So even you guys are kinda paired up, and I'm still alone."

"Greg, you know that anyone would be happy to talk to you." He sighed.

"I don't know if I want them knowing."

"Anything you say here, stays here." Greg nodded. "What's on your mind?"

"A lot. I don't know how they do it… I guess because they all have each other… but I'm not really sleeping, not really eating… I mean, for a while I know we all were, but it's almost like the four of them are moving on with their lives, and I'm still stuck back." Brass nodded. "I managed to sleep last night, and I had a dream about her. Well, all of us, really. I was still a tech, and we were goofing off and it felt so real… except she was sitting there, in the corner, just watching. She never said a word, never moved. Just watched. And no one else seemed to notice her, but she sat in the corner. And… I don't know, I knew she was there, but I didn't. And I don't know what that means, if it even means anything." Brass shrugged.

"I'm not a psychiatrist or anything. I couldn't tell you." Greg shook his head.

"I didn't expect you to have the answer." Greg fell silent for a moment, and Brass watched as the young man seemed to grow more troubled. He stood up from his chair, walking around his desk and taking the seat next to Greg.

"You can tell me anything, Greg." Greg looked up at the older man, sighing.

"The only thing keeping me going right now is the knowledge that if I were to do anything, you guys would be the ones hurt worst, and that would make me feel worse."

"What kind of 'anything' are you talking about, Greg?" he asked quietly, putting his hand on the young CSI's shoulder.

"Anything destructive. Anything that my twisted mind thinks would make me feel better. How the hell do you guys all do this? Be sane amidst all of this?"

"Who said we're sane?" Brass sighed. "We're all doing a healthy dose of acting, Greg, because we're all under the same microscope you feel like you're under. If the under sheriff had his way, you guys would be functioning on all levels right now. So you fake it until it becomes true. There's nothing else you can do."

"I'm having trouble with that." Brass shrugged. "I mean, the faking it is okay, but after I'm away from it all… I don't know what to do."

"Get a punching bag, something constructive for when you're angry. When you're upset, call someone or write a journal if you don't feel like calling someone. It'll get easier as time goes on."

"I miss her so much."

"We all do," Brass said sadly.

"There's something missing without her."

"Yeah." Greg was quiet for a moment before chuckling somewhat.

"Mia's kind of like her." Brass looked at Greg like he had officially lost his mind with that statement. "Balls to the wall, take no shit from anyone. Sara was a helluva lot nicer, and funnier, but Mia's like Sara when Sara first got here." Brass chuckled softly, nodding.

"Yeah, she kinda is, only without all the good parts." Greg smiled softly. "Even Sara said that. She told me once that Ecklie made her sit down with the new girl on Days, and that they actually had a lot in common and she reminded Sara of herself." Greg chuckled somewhat again.

"Yeah, I see it." Brass smiled, and the pair fell silent for a moment. "I… We failed her, Brass," he said quietly. "And that kills me."

"We tried our best," Brass said. "There wasn't much more we could do."

"I hate Natalie so much."

"Yeah."

"We found Nick when he was buried underground. His kidnapper blew himself up, and we still found him in time. How could we have failed Sara like that?"

"We had more to go on with Nick." Greg shook his head.

"It doesn't make sense. We're the number 2 crime lab in the country, and we failed to save one of our own. How good are we if we can't even find one of our own before she died under a car in the desert?!?" Greg stood up, anger growing within him as he paced Brass's office. The older captain just watched him. "We couldn't even fucking save our team member!" He punched the wall, and Brass jumped up.

"Easy there, Greg. Don't need to break your hand or my wall."

"Sorry," Greg said quietly. He sighed softly as Brass put a gentle, fatherly hand on his shoulder. "I know I'm not as bad as Mia, but I feel so… out of control. So sick. I don't know what to do, where to go with things. I feel lost, confused. Our team's falling apart, and I know that Nick and I used to be the ones who could hold us together, but… we can't. What's happening to us?" Brass sighed.

"Unfortunately, sometimes this happens," Brass told him quietly. "In times where friends should be uniting together to make it through, it tears them apart. It's okay, it's normal, and once things settle down, it'll be back. It takes more than four weeks for that to happen, though."

"We used to get each other through the bad."

"It's affecting all of us. It's okay, Greg. It'll all be okay. It takes time." Greg sighed, shaking his head. Brass pulled him into a fatherly hug. "It'll be okay one day."

"Do you even believe that, or are you just saying what you think'll make me feel better?" Greg asked as he returned the hug. Brass chuckled softly.

"A bit of both." They let go, and Greg moved toward the door. Brass moved back behind his desk. "You're always welcome to drop by here if you ever need to chat."

"Thanks, Brass."

"No problem, kid."

"I gotta go find Warrick. He's meeting me here so we can interview our guy." Brass nodded.

"Good luck and remember, door's always open and phone's always on." Greg nodded, walking out of the office. Brass sighed, turning back to his paperwork as he hoped that the kid wasn't worse off than he had told him.

* * *

Translations:

"I only pick on the ones I like."

"You don't like me."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, come on. You don't like anybody. You hate the entire world."

"I do not hate the entire world. I have friends, people I like. I've had boyfriends in the past. So don't tell me I hate the entire world. Besides, I told you before, I have my reasons."

"That's shocking. ... I'm sorry. This goes back to what I was saying earlier about not meaning what I say."

"I doubt that."

"What?"

"I don't think this is the real you. I think the real you is what we see at the scenes, when you're talking to the victims. You're afraid to let people in, afraid to trust, so you hide behind your bad attitude. People won't want to truly know you if they think you're a bitch.

"And if they don't know you, then you don't care, and they can't hurt you. You can't get close to them, so when you lose them, it's nothing. You're hurting like we are. You told me that two weeks ago. And judging from the fact that day shift said you were like this too, I'd say that something happened to you a long time ago that really hurt you. You're scared. You think that if you're nice, people will hurt you and use you, and you don't want that to happen, so you wall yourself off behind your demeanor. Am I right?"

PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. UnBreak My Heart

A/N: I only own Mia. The song used throughout the chapter is "Un-Break my Heart" by Toni Braxton, which I do not own. This is another relatively sad chapter, but after all, it is a tragic story. At any rate, please review. :)

* * *

**Chapter 5: Un-Break my Heart**

Grissom walked outside after shift, feeling the drain of the night. It had been a rough one, and nights like this made the loss of Sara feel even worse. He stretched his sore muscles, walking around the parking lot as the rain poured down around him.

_Don't leave me in all this pain  
__Don't leave me out in the rain  
__Come back and bring back my smile  
__Come and take these tears away_

Nights like these reminded him of that night in the desert. The night they were too late. They lost Sara because they couldn't find her in time. And now, he and the rest of his team were walking around in a world of hurt. He sat down on the bench outside the lab, allowing the rain to drench him completely as he sat there. He missed her every second of every day. He didn't know how they were all getting through this.

Mia was right. The team had fallen apart before she got there, and none of them seemed to know how to put things back together. Mia, though, wasn't helping them much. If anything, she was uniting them against her. Grissom sighed. Tears weren't coming anymore. It was almost like he was all cried out. Loneliness surrounded him as he sat on the bench, staring out at the traffic beyond the parking lot. He wished that this was a nightmare he'd wake up from, but, as he watched the traffic blur by, he knew it wasn't.

_I need your arms to hold me now  
The nights are so unkind  
Bring back those nights when I held you beside me_

Mia tousled her hair, taking a sip from her glass of wine as she sat on her couch. Her ringing doorbell annoyed her, causing her to get up quickly. She limped over, favoring her good ankle and ignoring the crutches she left in the kitchen as she opened the door to a rain-drenched Hodges. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked, stepping aside to let him come in and dry off.

"We need to talk," he replied, looking around. "Nice place."

"Thanks. You're dripping." She limped into the kitchen and he walked after her. "Stay here." She put down the glass, grabbing her crutches and hobbling down the hall. Hodges stayed, as instructed, until Mia came back with a towel and some clothes. "Bathroom's down the hall to the left." She thrust them at him, and he nodded, walking out. She ditched the crutches, pouring another glass of wine before bringing them into the living room. Hodges came back out, walking into the living room with his wet clothes.

"Where should I put…?"

"Kitchen." He nodded, dropping them on the floor in the kitchen before walking into the living room. She offered him the glass of wine.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." He sat in a chair near her, sipping the wine. "What the hell are you doing here, Hodges?"

"I wanted to talk to you." He swirled his wine, staring at it. "Bordeaux?"

"Yes. What the hell could you want to talk about?"

"Us. L.A."

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, what happened between us there stays there. It's not like I've been treating you differently than anyone else. Come on."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, what the hell did you mean?"

"I want to go back." Mia angrily shook her head in disbelief.

_Un-break my heart  
Say you'll love me again  
Undo this hurt you caused  
When you walked out the door  
And walked out of my life  
Un-cry these tears  
I cried so many nights  
Un-break my heart  
My heart_

Now home, showered, and dried, Grissom sat on his couch, petting Bruno. He sighed, looking at the picture of the two of them he kept on the coffee table. His heart and his body yearned for her presence around him, but his head told him that she wasn't coming back. Sighing again, he picked up the copy of Applied Psychology in Criminal Justice sitting on the coffee table, opening to a page and reading the articles to distract himself from the pain of missing her.

_Take back that sad word good-bye  
Bring back the joy to my life  
Don't leave me hear with these tears  
Come and kiss the pain away _

Greg and Brass were sitting in Brass's office, drinking from the bottle in his drawer as they reminisced about Sara. Five weeks had passed, three weeks since they started back at work. The pair sipped the scotch, silence falling between them for a moment as each man thought about what to say. Both realized at the moment that words were inadequate, and couldn't describe their emotions fully. As they sipped the scotch again, they remembered their fallen comrade.

_I can't forget the day you left  
Time is so unkind  
And life is so cruel without you here beside me _

Grissom sighed, putting down the magazine and thinking about the time he told Sara about a similar magazine where he'd read an article about the mile-high club. He'd made up the magazine, something she had called him on, but that didn't matter. He smiled to himself slightly, remembering the awkwardness of the moment and the words exchanged. He kept smiling, thinking about her love and her life. He'd always love her, no matter what.

_Un-break my heart  
Say you'll love me again  
Undo this hurt you caused  
When you walked out the door  
And walked out of my life  
Un-cry these tears  
I cried so many nights  
Un-break my heart  
My heart _

Nick flipped through the channels on the TV as Warrick sat beside him. Tina put two mugs of coffee in front of them, and both gentlemen offered their thanks. She kissed the top of Warrick's head gently before messing up Nick's hair and walking out of the room. Nick followed her with his eyes before looking over at Warrick. "She's a good one," he told his friend softly.

"Yeah," Warrick replied. "Comforting's her specialty." Nick nodded, and the two of them went back to trying to find something to watch.

_Don't leave me in all this pain  
Don't leave me out in the rain  
Bring back the nights when I held you beside me _

"You don't fucking get it, do you?" Mia asked him, shaking her head. "David, we can't go back."

"Why not?" Hodges asked. "Why can't we be together?"

"Because way too much has happened between us."

'That's shit, Cat, and you know it." She cringed at his use of her nickname. "Look, I've been good about calling you Mia at work and pretending that we've just met, but don't you think it's time we stop pretending?"

"Do you want them fucking knowing what happened in LA?" Hodges sighed.

"You can't tell me it was all bad." Mia shrugged.

"I could, but you'd never fucking listen to me anyway. And beside that, I never ever even remotely want to go back there either. You're fucking lucky I don't outright hate your guts for what you did."

"I guess I deserve that."

"You're damn right you fucking deserve that! You deserve worse!" She sighed, swallowing down the last of her wine. "The best you can fucking hope for is civility, but if you come to my house like this again, you won't even get that."

"You never let me apologize."

"I wouldn't accept it anyway. There's no excuse, David."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Let's not get into this. I'd like you to leave." Hodges shook his head.

"Not until we talk about what went wrong."

"No. David, this isn't your fucking house. You don't get to make the rules."

"This is my city. You came here, not the other way around."

"You came to my fucking house. You fucking sought me out. Now I'm turning you away. Go home, David."

"Cat, come on."

"Stop calling me that! You're the reason I hate when people call me that. Go the hell away."

"I'll tell everyone what happened out there."

"Soil your already shitty reputation. Be my guest. Because you can't make me look bad here."

"You dumped me."

"I had a damn good reason, and you know it! You fucking screwed up, David! And you have to live with that. Get the fuck out of my house." Hodges stood up.

"Maybe you should come to the terms with the fact that maybe you had it coming," he told her in a harsh, quiet tone as he put the glass down and walked out of the house. Mia glared after him, standing and hobbling into the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of wine, drinking straight from it in large gulps. That was the affect David Hodges had on her.

_Un-break my heart  
Say you'll love me again  
Undo this hurt you caused  
When you walked out the door  
And walked out of my life  
Un-cry these tears  
I cried so many, many nights  
Un-break my  
Un-break my heart, oh baby  
Come back and say you love me  
Un-break my heart  
Sweet darlin'  
Without you I just can't go on  
Can't go on…_


	7. Night of the Pifflings'

A/N: I still don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity. Mia is a character of my own creation. This chapter takes place the night after the last one. I would appreciate knowing what you guys are thinking about this story, because apparently a lot of you have no feelings either way. So please, do me the favor and review. That being said, the Italian in this chapter is "Thank you," "You're welcome," and "Do you speak Italian?", in that order. Enjoy, and review if you want more.

* * *

Chapter 6: 'Night of the Pifflings'

Greg sat in the break room before shift, silently hating the pounding in his head. Mia walked into the room, grabbing the pot and pouring herself a cup of coffee. Greg looked at the disturber of his calm and frowned at her appearance. "You okay?" he asked her softly, causing her to turn. The bags under her eyes were more evident, along with her red, runny nose.

"Fine," she replied, voice icy and clear of any congestion.

"What happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?" She fished through her pocket, producing a packet of Advil and tossing them to Greg. "Here. Something tells me you could use these more than me."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." He stood up, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a can of soda out of it. He swallowed down the pills with a sigh.

"Hangover?"

"No. Just a headache."

"I heard about your night with Brass."

"So? It's not like we got drunk or anything."

"But you did after."

"No I didn't. I swear to you, I'm not hung-over. I just suffer from migraines. They've happened ever since…"

"You got your ass kicked last year?" Greg nodded, confused.

"Yeah. How'd you know about that?"

"I thought we went over this the first night I was here. I know everything about you guys."

"Really? Well, then what do I prefer- boxers or briefs?" She sighed, annoyed.

"Depends on what you're wearing and where you're going in it. If you're wearing a suit to court or a funeral, briefs. Otherwise, boxers. Jeans are boxers too, unless they're tight."

"Okay, now that's creepy." She smiled.

"I'm good." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, what about you? C'mon, give me something."

"Okay. I came here from L.A."

"I already knew that. How old are you?"

"26."

"Where are you from originally?"

"L.A. Enough questions." Greg groaned.

"Spoil sport."

"Grazie."

"Prego." She arched her eyebrows.

"Parli l'italiano?"

"Huh?" She shook her head.

"Never mind." He shrugged, sitting at the table. She sat beside him quietly. "How are you doing?"

"Huh?" he repeated. Not because he hadn't heard her correctly, but because he was surprised she was even asking.

"You okay? How are you handling things?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess I'm doing okay. I don't know. How about you? I'm sorry about your friend."

"Who told you?" she asked curtly.

"Brass. He knows all." She shook her head, chuckling.

"I guess so. I don't know." Nick walked in, and Greg watched as Mia straightened up. "What's up, Tubbaluv?" she asked the newcomer brusquely.

"Shut up," he replied, groaning. Greg shook his head.

"Bad night for everyone last night?" he asked.

"Looks like it, kid," she answered as Warrick walked in.

"Coffee ready?" he inquired.

"Yeah," Greg replied.

"Great." Warrick poured himself a cup of coffee, sipping it slowly as Catherine strolled in, with Grissom trailing behind her.

"Okay, tonight we've got a 'night of the pifflings'," Grissom said, looking at Nick.

"Pifflings?" Greg asked.

"Puffin offspring," Nick explained. "Every year, first time out of the nest, they crash-land on this city in Iceland because they're attracted to the lights of civilization."

"Right," Grissom said. "Nick, you have a DB in Lake Mead. Catherine, DB of your own at the Tangiers. Warrick's with me on that OIS. Greg and Mia, you have an assault in a parking lot off-Strip. Good luck out there tonight." They nodded, standing. Greg turned to Mia.

"You drive," he said. "My head hurts."

"Fine," she replied. "Let's go." They began to leave when Grissom stopped them.

"One more thing," he said. "You two are going to be representing us at a conference next month. Mia, you were originally signed up to represent Days, and Greg, you're signed up to represent us. The conference is in California."

"Oh, thanks for the advanced warning," Mia snapped. Grissom shook his head, ignoring her.

"Where in California?" Greg asked.

"Santa Monica," Grissom replied. Greg nodded.

"Cool. C'mon, Annamolly, let's go before you talk yourself out of a job." Greg winked at Grissom as Mia groaned. Greg grabbed her arm playfully, prancing out into the hallway and dragging her along with him. She fought against him, causing Grissom to sigh.

"How long before she kills him?" Warrick asked, amused.

"Hopefully after the conference," Grissom answered, walking out to the car.

"So, can I ask you something?" Greg began as he scoped out the parking lot. Mia shrugged.

"You can ask whatever the fuck you want," she replied, bending over and picking up a clump of hair. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna answer."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"No. You have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh, no. You have a girlfriend?"

"Not in a romantic or sexual sense, but I do have friends that are girls."

"Right." Greg picked up a bloody piece of glass, sighing.

"How's the headache?"

"Getting worse." Mia looked up at him, seeing the stress in his face.

"Take a deep breath and close your eyes." Greg glared at her, trying to judge her intentions. "Hey, I'm not gonna do anything bad, so do you want my help or not?" He sighed, following her instructions. "Good boy. Now, envision yourself in a safe, happy place. Nothing bad happens here. Everything is perfect and peaceful. What do you see?"

"A waterfall, with trees around it," Greg replied.

"No talking," Mia instructed. "It was the next part, not something you needed to answer."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, what do you see? Someone you really care about, someone you really trust, walking up to you." She quietly took off her gloves as she spoke. "He or she approaches you and greets you warmly." She watched as Greg smiled.

He smiled as he envisioned Sara's image coming toward him, greeting him warmly. "You hug them, and they hug you tightly, telling you everything's gonna be okay," Mia continued. "And you smile and agree, and then they walk behind you." She moved behind him. "And they start to give you a massage." She started to massage his shoulders, kneading them gently and expertly. "And you feel yourself relax. You feel lighter, less stressed, not a care in the world." Greg's smile shifted slightly at hearing the smirk growing in her voice. "And everything is still and calm and perfect. And then…" She shoved Greg gently, causing him to crash out of his fantasy and almost fall over in the parking lot.

"I hate you," he growled lowly. She smirked.

"Still have a headache?"

"Yes."

"Is it as bad?" He sighed, thinking.

"Not really."

"Then I win." She donned a new pair of gloves.

"Bitch."

"Eh, I've been called worse." She went back to processing as he watched her quietly. Try as he might, he couldn't understand her. Figuring her out was like trying to complete a genius level crossword puzzle as an amateur. Once you thought you'd finally found a word that fit, you'd find another that would make that impossible.

As much as she hated to think it, she had come to the conclusion that Greg was something different. Someone she could potentially trust, maybe even love. She hadn't felt able to trust anyone in years, so the idea that she could scared her. She stood up and turned to Greg, not really looking at him.

"Just one more thing," he said to her, swabbing a drop of liquid.

"Blood?" she asked, finally looking at him.

"Nah. Semen, I think."

"Really? On the ground?"

"Some like it hard and dirty. In more ways than one." She shook her head.

"Not me." Greg smirked.

"Duly noted." Mia rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Let's go, Sanders." Greg stood up, packing away the swab in his kit and closing it.

"After you, Salvatori." She tossed her hair aside, her ponytail swinging back over her shoulder. He followed her back to the Denali, climbing in and smiling. "I still hate you," he told her. She shrugged.

"Whatever," she replied softly. "I don't care. I'm not here for everyone to love. The goal of my life isn't having everyone in the world love me. I'm just trying to get through."

"But don't you care about anyone? Anything?"

"Yeah, I do. I have friends who have been my friends for years. I love some people. I just don't care whether or not people actually like me. I don't dwell on trying to please people, because you can't. I take care of myself and stay strong. I do my best to stay sane. I realize that people are stupid and destined to amount to little more than the harm instilled in their souls. Anything up from that is an improvement in the world."

"Your outlook is so endearing." She shrugged.

"I don't ask you to agree with it, or even give a shit. I don't even care if you understand it. Just understand that's where I'm coming from." He was silent for a minute before looking at her.

"How'd you get there?" She shook her head.

"Not answering that one."

"Why?"

"I don't trust you."

"Then how come you're nice to me?" She shrugged.

"I feel sorry for you."

"Why?"

"Even if I did have an answer for you, I still wouldn't tell you." He smiled.

"Tease."

"So?"

"Just saying." He smiled wider, and she looked over at him.

"What?"

"You like me." She arched her eyebrows.

"Where in the fuck did you gather that from?"

"You're nice to me."

"And that means I like you? Maybe that actually means I hate you, because I do things the other way around. Maybe I actually like Nick, since I'm always such a bitch to him, and I'm being nice to you because I absolutely can't stand you."

"Maybe, but I doubt it." She rolled her eyes.

"You would." He smiled.

"Yep. Santa Monica's gonna be fun." She shrugged.

"Maybe, but most likely not."

"Oh, I'll make sure of it," he assured her. She shook her head.

"You're crazy."

"My dear, you will come to learn that's just the beginning of my many wonderful attributes."


	8. Theres Trouble In Here

A/N: I don't own anyone or anything you recognize, but Mia is, in fact, mine. There's some worse language in this chapter, so be forewarned now. Oh, and life around the lab is about to get a little more interesting. Shoutout to KyliedaRock, who faithfully reviews this story. It's much appreciated. :D Enjoy this chapter, and everyone, please review.

* * *

Chapter 7: There's Trouble in Here

Mia shook her head roughly, readjusting her hair off her shoulders. She sat down in the break room, taking a drink from the iced latte she brought in with her as she settled for the calm before the storm. Hodges walked in and grabbed her shoulders gently, massaging them. "Hey, babe," he said. She groaned.

"Leave me alone and stop touching me," she told him sharply.

"Oh, come on. I'm not hurting you. Bet that feels good, right? Just like you remember it."

"Leave me alone, David. I want you to stop."

"Fine." He let go of her, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Just remember, I'm always here when you want me."

"Been there, done that, and it wasn't that great."

"Yeah, right. That's why we used to get the cops called on us for noise."

"That was when we were fighting, douche bag. Not when we were having sex."

"Making love."

"Yeah, right. You don't know the meaning of love, David." He walked up to her, bending over to kiss her cheek.

"That's what you think," he whispered in her ear before he stood up and walked out of the room. She grumbled to herself, shaking her head with an angry sigh as Nick walked in. He noticed the anger in her face and thought better of greeting her. He rather enjoyed having a head on his shoulders that hadn't been half chewed by Mia. She fumed in her own silent world as Greg walked in.

"Hey guys," he said, smiling.

"Hey Greggo," Nick replied. Mia grunted in acknowledgement.

"You okay, Mia?"

"I'm going to fucking kill him one of these fucking days," she spewed harshly, catching Greg and Nick off guard.

"Uh, okay," Greg said quietly, looking at Nick. Nick shrugged and shook his head. Mia didn't elaborate, choosing to sink back into her own world of anger. Catherine and Warrick walked in together, and both noticed the fuming Mia before deciding to proceed to where Greg and Nick were sitting with caution. The two men greeted them nicely.

"What's her deal?" Catherine asked softly.

"Don't know," Nick said. "She said something about fucking killing him one of these days, but she didn't say anything more." Catherine nodded.

"Did you ask?"

"Would you?"

"Ten bucks says it's Hodges," Greg said. Catherine arched her eyebrows at him. "What? They barely act civilly to each other at work. Well, she barely treats him civilly at work. He's enamored with her." Nick cast a funny look in Greg's direction. "What?"

"Enamored?" he asked the young CSI.

"It's the word of the day." Nick shook his head.

"I just have one question," Mia said from the table, causing four heads and eight eyes to snap to her. "Do you always try to talk about your coworkers behind their backs when they're in the same room?"

"Busted," Greg whispered. Catherine smacked him with a gentle, motherly touch.

"We're just concerned," she told Mia.

"Don't be," Mia grumbled. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're aggravated."

"When aren't I, according to Nick?"

"Hey, I never said that," Nick defended.

"Didn't have to," she said. "I feel it every time I'm aggravated around you."

"Do we always have to fight?" Warrick asked calmly.

"Apparently so," Nick snapped, glaring at Mia.

"What?" she said. "I'm just fucking doing nothing. I wasn't fucking doing anything in the first place. I was minding my own business when I get fucking harassed, and then you guys all come here and start fucking talking about me like I'm not here. I can't stand that shit. Either talk to me, or have the fucking decency to talk about me when I'm not around."

"We're not trying to be malicious, Mia," Greg said gently, walking over and sitting next to her.

"And here comes Greg's patented 'puppy-dog, sad, can't fight with me' routine."

"Well, when you put it like that… No, seriously, Mia. We're concerned. You're obviously upset at something, and we want to help, but any time one of us even tries, you bite our head off."

"Can you blame me?" she asked, looking at Greg. "You guys hate me."

"Kinda hard not to," Nick retorted.

"Fuck off, Stokes." She stood up, stalking over to him. Greg moved in between them.

"Mia, stand down," he said quietly. She shook her head in defiance. "Mia, please, calm down." She continued to try to ignore Greg as the others watched. "Look, you keep this up, and Ecklie's gonna have no excuse not to fire you and ruin your life. You'd never be able to work as a criminalist ever again. Do you want that?" She looked up at Greg, seeing concern in his eyes.

"No," she said softly. Nick, Warrick, and Catherine looked at one another, shocked and confused. She was actually relenting for Greg? Grissom walked in, interrupting the moment.

"Alright, sorry I'm late," he said. "Greg and Nick, DB in the desert. Catherine, you're with me at the Rampart. Warrick and Mia, you guys got a DB out on Highland Road. Be careful." He walked out of the room the same way he walked in, and Mia walked out after him.

"Good luck tonight, bro," Nick said, patting Warrick on the shoulder.

"Thanks," he said, quickly arcing his eyebrows up before dropping them down. "I might need it." He walked out, and Nick looked over at Greg and Catherine.

"They're entering a bad scene, and she's in a bad mood," he said. "I doubt if she'll make it out."

"Oh, come on," Greg said. "They'll be fine."

"Yeah, right. They're as fine as an injured man in a shark tank."

* * *

Mia picked up a shell casing as Warrick continued to photograph the scene. Vega stood back, watching them quietly. "Hey, yo, Salvatori," a bystander called. Mia tossed her gaze over her shoulder to him. "Long time, no see, eh?"

"Martez," she groaned. "I thought I locked your ass up for good."

"Ha, right. I got out about a month ago."

"Then already violating parole, huh?"

"Wasn't parole, bitch. Good behavior." She shook her head.

"Right. I think I'd would've been told about that."

"Ha, looks like someone lied to you, homes." She stood upright, walking over to him.

"Don't ever call me 'homes', Martez." He snorted at her, laughing.

"Girl, you ain't all that. You just a punk-ass cop."

"Scientist, actually," she sneered with an air of importance. He laughed.

"Right. That's why you don't carry no gun." She rolled her eyes.

"Go back to L.A., Martez. This obsessive thing has got to go."

"I ain't obsessive about nothin'."

"Right. That's why you stalked me to my crime scene. Now get the fuck out of here." She turned away as he ducked under the crime tape and grabbed her. She fought back as Warrick and Vega tried to come to her rescue. Martez pulled out a knife, holding it to her throat while Vega and Warrick drew their weapons.

"Anyone tries to make a move, and I'll kill the bitch," he warned, tightening his grip on her. She rolled her eyes.

"I dare you to fuckin' do it, you pussy," she said. Martez pressed the knife tighter to her throat.

"What'd you say?"

"I said, I dare you to fuckin' do it. Just fuckin' kill me, Martez. Because then you'll get the fuckin' chair, you obsessive, stalker asshole."

"I ain't no stalker, and I ain't fuckin' obsessive. I just fucking wanna harass you."

"Well, you did. Now either man up and finish the job, or get the fuck out of here, you no-ball pussy loser." Vega, still brandishing his firearm, looked at Warrick questioningly. Warrick shrugged.

"Keep it up and I will."

"I'd fucking love to see you try. If I'm not afraid of a guy holding me at gunpoint, I sure as hell ain't gonna be scared by a guy with a knife."

"You're scared, Salvatori. I can feel it."

"I'm not afraid of you trying to kill me, Martez. You wanna fuck me a helluva lot more than you wanna kill me."

"I don't wanna fuck your skanky ass. You're damaged goods, Catalina." She cringed.

"Don't ever fucking call me Catalina." He chortled.

"I know how much it turns you on," Martez whispered to her, huskily. Vega and Warrick watched as a moment of panic crossed her face before her normal steely resolve set back in.

"Doesn't do a thing for me."

"That's why you cringed, baby."

"I'm not your baby. Call me that again, and I'll chop off what's left of your nuts."

"Did she date him or arrest him?" Vega asked Warrick softly.

"No clue," Warrick replied.

"So, you gonna fucking kill me or what?" Mia asked, angrily. Martez chuckled before kissing her neck softly.

"Maybe just fuck you," he replied. She stiffened, now growing nervous. He chuckled again. "Now you're scared."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are." She smirked, shaking her head.

"I'm not afraid of you." He let go of her hands to grope her, and she elbowed him in the stomach. She ran over to Warrick as Vega and the police grabbed Martez. He struggled, stabbing a uniform and swiping Vega's arm as he ran over to Warrick and Mia.

"Bitch."

"What?" she asked. "Gonna kill me? You had me right where you wanted me before, and you still didn't kill me. What's gonna make this time any different?"

"I'll fucking kill you, you bitch."

"Go for it." Warrick tried to stand between them, only to get shoved roughly by Martez. He lunged at her, trying to cut her as she kicked the knife out of his hand. She threw him to the ground and sat on him as a few other uniforms arrested him. Warrick looked critically at Mia as he holstered his weapon. She rolled her eyes. "What now?" she asked Warrick, annoyed.

"You're really suicidal, aren't you?" he asked her.

"No."

"Right. Because people who want to live long taunt homicidal maniacs." She rolled her eyes again.

"You guys okay?" she asked the uniform and Vega.

"Fine," Vega replied curtly.

"Sorry."

"You should know better than anyone that actions have consequences," Warrick said. "You could've gotten more than just yourself killed."

"Let's finish processing," Mia told him, getting back to work.

"No. You don't get it, do you? You have no regard for your own life, so you care even less about everyone else's." She snapped her head to him.

"If I had no respect for anyone else's life, I wouldn't be a criminalist."

"Is that what you are? Because all I see is a suicidal child who likes puzzles. You need to grow up, Mia."

"If I was a child, I'd hit you for that remark. But since I'm not, I'll tell you to fucking go to hell, Warrick Brown, because you know absolutely nothing about me or my life. You wanna call me a suicidal child, be my guest. I'm over the stage of needing anyone else's validation. You wanna bitch to Grissom? Do that too. Because I'd be glad to get the fuck out of here and away from all of you guys." The last part came out with more spite than Warrick had ever heard in his life, and he almost felt sorry for a moment. He knew they hadn't been fair to Mia since day one, which could explain a lot of her actions at the moment. He sighed softly.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Being an ass." She shrugged.

"I don't care. Let's finish up and get back." He nodded, getting back to work. He sighed, amazed. She had been in the wrong, yet she still had managed to make him apologize. He shook his head. Just like a woman.

* * *

A/N: For the record, Martez was someone she arrested, not an exboyfriend, before anyone gets confused. PLEASE REVIEW!!! 


	9. Drunken Heart to Hearts

A/N: Still only own Mia, everyone else belongs to someone else, including Ryan Wolfe (who makes a cameo in this chapter). Thanks for the few reviews on the last chapter... maybe more this time? Please? Anyway, this is a bit of a harsh chapter, with mentions of violence, death, and sexual assault, just to give you the heads up now. No real descriptors, just know it's mentioned. Alcohol makes Mia a lot different... hahaha. Enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 8: Drunken Heart-to-Hearts in Santa Monica

After dinner, Mia and Greg stood around at cocktail hour, mingling with other members of their profession. She was in her usual form, Greg realized, as she held her fourth glass of champagne in her right hand while her left hand held her pocket book. Greg's hands were in his jacket pocket before he took them out to readjust his tie as he chatted amicably with his colleagues. Mia rolled her eyes before handing Greg her glass as she continued talking, fixing Greg's tie for him. She took her glass back as he smiled. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Don't mention it," she replied, finishing her glass and readjusting her deep purple, low cut, floor length, sleeveless dress with rhinestone trim. Easily, she was the hit of the party, getting a lot of requests to 'swap DNA' and other cheesy pick up lines. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the curls she put in bouncing gently. Greg smiled inwardly, gazing at her beauty as he talked quietly with those around him. Her phone rang, snapping him out of his daze. She excused herself quietly before stepping away a bit. "Salvatori," she answered. She listened for a moment, and Greg watched as she grew agitated and walked away.

"What's her deal?" Ryan Wolfe, a CSI for Miami-Dade County, asked.

"Damned if I know," Greg replied, watching her.

"She's a piece of work, huh?" Greg shrugged, still watching her.

"She's good with victims."

"She's a fucking bitch. How can she be good with victims?"

"She has some humanity. You don't know her, Ryan."

"Yeah, I don't, but I don't exactly want to, either." Greg shrugged again, still watching her.

"Your loss, man."

"Salvatori," Mia answered.

"Hey baby," Hodges replied. Mia clenched her fists and started to walk away. "Missing me yet?"

"No, and I never will."

"Oh, now that's harsh."

"You deserve it, you jackass."

"Babe, the only thing I ever did was love you."

"You never loved me, you fucking prick."

"I did too. I never meant to hurt you, Mia."

"Yeah, right. Like I believe that. Go to hell, David."

"After all I did for you, all I gave you, you treat me like this?"

"David, the only thing you ever gave me was a hard time and a pain in the ass. I thought I already made this clear to you. I don't want to see or talk to you outside of work, ever. And at work, the best you can hope for is civility. Nothing more, ever. Understand now?"

"No. I don't get why you hate me."

"You know what you did."

"I've tried apologizing, and you either blow me off or don't accept it. Why?"

"Because you don't get it. You want a second chance with me, but you don't understand that we can't just go back. You can't just apologize and go back."

"But I love you." She scoffed.

"You hurt me, David. And actually, to you, love is a lie that gets people to fall into bed with you so you can fulfill your sexual quota. And then when you're done, you dump them either for someone else or just to be a fucking miserable ass. You only care about yourself and your own interest. You only love yourself."

"I do not."

"You do too! And honestly, I can see why you would have to love yourself- because no one else will!"

"Hmm, sounds like you."

"Not really. I don't use people for my own personal gain like you do. And… you know what? I'm done with this conversation. It's a waste of my time and breath."

"What? We're not-" She hung up, stalking back toward Greg in fury.

"Here," she groaned loudly, handing him her phone. He fumbled with it in his hands for a minute, almost dropping it on the floor.

"What do I want this for?" he asked, annoyed. Ryan shot him a 'better you than me' look as he smiled.

"I want you to fucking hold it for me, dumbass. That way there, if I get anther fucking phone call, I won't have to fucking answer it. I don't care who's fucking calling me, I'm not fucking answering it." Greg nodded, seeing past her anger to the underlying disturbance. He tucked her phone into his pocket before gently reaching out and grabbing her bare arm.

"You okay?" His voice was gentle and soft, causing her to sigh.

"Not really." Her honesty surprised both of them, and she quickly chalked it up to the champagne earlier. He nodded.

"You wanna leave?" She looked around for a moment before nodding. He put his arm gently around her waist, silently apologizing to Ryan as he left. Ryan shrugged, walking away to find Danny Messer, a CSI from New York.

Greg opened the door to their suite for Mia as she remained silent, cursing herself for being weak in front of him. She found that tonight, she couldn't help herself. She was buzzed, and would probably be doing and saying a lot of things she'd regret later. She sat on the couch, and Greg sat on the chair opposite her, grabbing the room service menu and looking at her. Shrugging, she figured that if she were going to be open, she'd need to be more drunk than she already was. "Let's get drunk," she told him. He nodded.

"What do you like?" he asked, his voice still gentle. She figured if she wasn't so rattled by the constant annoyance that was David Hodges, she'd be angered by his tone.

"Scotch, gin, vodka. Anything hard." He smirked, and she shook her head. "Die, pervert."

"Sorry, became a teenager again for a moment. Mixers?"

"If you're getting vodka, get orange juice. If gin or scotch, nothing."

"Alright. Anything to eat?"

"Doesn't matter." He nodded, ordering scotch and mozzarella sticks as she moved to sit at her computer. She opened her email and groaned as Greg hung up. "I need my phone back," she growled at him.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"Because I need to chew David a new one."

"Who?" She sighed.

"Hodges. Sorry."

"Why?"

"Because he won't fucking leave me alone! He keeps calling me, emailing me, just generally bugging the fucking hell out of me! He even fucking showed up at my door one night."

"Why?" She looked over at him angrily. "He's usually not so obsessive without a reason."

"Him and I have a history."

"Ah." She furrowed her brows.

"And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just, everything between the two of you makes so much more sense." She sighed, calming a bit.

"He won't just fucking let it go."

"Have you?" She looked at him like he had five heads.

"What?" Room service arrived at the door, and Greg stood up.

"Have you let it go?" She was silent as he took care of the man at the door, taking the time to think about his question.

"They have bottles of scotch on room service?" she asked, deciding to ignore it as Greg closed the door.

"My friend's family owns the place," he explained, sitting back in the chair as she moved to the couch again. "I get what I want."

"Connections are great, aren't they?"

"Definitely." He opened the bottle, passing it to her. She put ice in her glass before pouring herself a double.

"Do you have to pay for this?"

"Nope." She tilted her head.

"Where did you meet this friend?"

"College."

"What do you have on him?" Greg laughed heartily, pouring himself a single scotch on the rocks.

"Nothing."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Wow." She sipped her drink. "I wish I had friends like that."

"Maybe you just need to make better ones."

"Right. We both know how much people adore me." She took a long drink from her glass before sighing. He watched her intently, sipping his own drink. "Am I your science project?" she asked after a moment.

"Huh?" he replied, confused.

"You keep staring at me."

"Oh. Well, uh, I was, uh…"

"Wondering what makes me tick."

"Something like that." She finished her glass and poured herself another.

"I've never met my biological father," she began. He arched his eyebrows at her confession. "I'm not using that as an excuse or anything. I'm just making a blanket, beginning statement. My mother used to tell me the reason I'd never met my father was because he was an asshole and left. My stepfather used to tell me it was because no one really wanted me. I've come to realize, though, that he probably doesn't even know I exist, if he's still alive. Because what father would just up and abandon their daughter like that? Although my mom could be right, but that's neither here nor there.

"I lived with my mom growing up, and she got married to Fred when I was five or so," she continued. "After their marriage, I was sent off to boarding school in Italy, where I lived for about ten or so months each year. Made a lot of close friends that I still have to this day." She chuckled, and he continued to watch her. "I missed my mom a lot, though. Hated Fred." He nodded as she shook her head. "He was the one who initiated the boarding school thing. Mom didn't even seem to care."

"I'm sure she cared," Greg said softly. Mia shrugged, taking a drink.

"She did, when he wasn't around. He hated me, though, so when he was around, I didn't exist. I was an only child, and as far as I know, I still am, biologically speaking. But otherwise… well, I'll get to that later. Fred was impotent, so he and Mom weren't having kids, and Fred was really okay with that. Guess he hated the idea of parenthood. But anyway, I can't say Italy was all bad. Every weekend, we'd travel somewhere on the continent. We'd spend Saturday nights in that place, and we learned to pick up the languages after a couple visits. That's how I became fluent in French, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, Dutch, Portuguese, Japanese, and Chinese. I was already fluent in English."

"Wow."

"I speak France's French, Spain's Spanish, Portugal's Portuguese, and Mandarin Chinese. And there's a pretty big difference."

"I know."

"Right. Anyway, when I was eight, I got word of a phone call from a Lieutenant Steve Sloan, saying that my mom and stepfather were killed in a car accident. I was sent home from school pretty quickly, and two CSIs picked me up from the airport. He doesn't remember it now, but I remember Grissom and his partner, Kelly, picked me up. They stayed with me until the social worker brought me into foster care. I stayed in the system for ten years. Had twenty foster siblings in that time in eighteen different homes. The last place I was in, I was there for two years. The woman was so amazing. And I still kept in touch with my friends from boarding school. But in the homes and in L.A., I was having trouble.

"I wasn't always like this," she continued after taking a drink. "I was a good kid, very friendly and cheerful, loved everyone. And then I got to public school, and was picked on, pushed around, stepped on, beat up. I toughened up. I entered high school and wasn't bad like this. In fact, I was really naïve. The first guy I was with…" She paused, taking a long drink. He sipped his, thinking of all the potential ways this could go, and none of them were good. "The first guy I was with took advantage of that. He convinced me to do things that I normally wouldn't have, but I didn't know any better. I just wanted to make him happy, so I did whatever it took, even if it made me uncomfortable. After we broke up, I realized that he was actually abusing me like that. I vowed never to let my guard down like that again. I'd never let anyone take advantage of me again.

"That vow was broken one night in college," Mia said. Greg stayed where he was as she half-drunkenly pulled her knees to her chest. "I was a freshman in a sorority, and we were having a social with one of the fraternities. I ended up getting drugged and raped." She fell silent for a moment, resting her chin on her knees. He reached his hand out to her gently, and she took it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's in the past. But after that, I knew I couldn't continue in that sorority and at that college, so I transferred into another one. And I became… well, a lot like this. I still had some humanity, more than I do now, but I was pretty much like this. I've been told by my friends that maybe if I had gotten better help or whatever, I wouldn't be this bad. She shrugged, taking a drink. "Doesn't matter now, though."

"What do you mean, you wouldn't be this bad?" She sighed.

"I go out of my way sometimes to make people hate me. Like Nick."

"Why do you want Nick to hate you?"

"Nick was in a fraternity. I don't care that it was years ago, and I don't care how much he's changed. I don't want him to like me, because if he likes me, he might hurt me. I've been kicked around so many times you'd think I was a fucking soccer ball at the World Cup. I couldn't take it any more, so I turned myself into this hardened bitch before you."

"You can change." She shook her head.

"Greg, honey, there's no hope anymore. It's too late, and too much has happened."

"Mia, it's never too late."

"Yeah, it kinda is."

"You're 26. You have a lot of your life left. You can change if you try and if you have the right support base around you. Maybe your friends are right. Maybe if you did have some help, you'd better move on. It's something that can be changed, though, Mia. It's not too late." She sighed.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." He nodded.

"I respect that." She squeezed his hand gently, still holding onto it from earlier. He moved next to her, pulling her gently against his chest. She hugged him tightly, the alcohol and conversation making her actually clingy. He held her gently, and she felt tears sting her eyes as Greg held onto her. Her breath grew shaky as she thought of all the things she had confessed to him. The tears began to fall, and he held her closer, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He soothed her softly, rubbing her back as she calmed down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He shook his head.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he told her. "It's okay. You're human." She chuckled bitterly.

"Right." She stayed in his arms, closing her eyes gently and breathing in his scent. He continued to rub small, soft circles into her back, soothing her. "Greg?" she asked softly.

"Yes?" he replied, just as soft.

"Two things. One, don't ever fucking mention this to anyone, and two, I don't feel too good." He chuckled.

"Glad you have your priorities straight. You have my word, and how do you feel? Nauseous? Dizzy?"

"Nauseous and tired. And dizzy." He nodded.

"Okay. Let's get you up and in bed, okay?" She nodded slowly, leaning against him somewhat as he lead her into her bedroom. She lay down on the bed, and he sat beside her. She pulled her shoes off as he handed her pajamas to her, causing her to shoot him a dirty look.

"Am I supposed to change with you in the room?" she asked. His eyes went wide with shock, because it was something he never thought of.

"Absolutely not," he told her, standing. She chuckled, shaking her head.

"I'm kidding, Sanders." She pulled her pants on under her skirt and put the shirt on over her dress before unzipping herself and pulling off her dress. He watched in amazement, causing her to chuckle. "I learned a lot in high school."

"Uh, huh." She curled up in the bed, and Greg sat down beside her again. Both of them mildly intoxicated, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside her. He took off his jacket and shoes, and she wrapped her arms around him, putting her head on his chest.

"I'm not sure why I'm doing this, but I feel like…"

"It's okay," Greg interrupted. "I understand without you trying to explain it." She nodded, snuggling closer. "It's the alcohol. Makes you open. Then you talk, and you feel vulnerable, which makes you feel like being held." She nodded.

"Something like that." She closed her eyes. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She kept her eyes closed, yawning as she started to grow tired.

"Do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Make the world stop spinning." He sighed, growing nervous that she'd over done it.

"I can't do that. Are you really feeling that bad?"

"No, but it's fun to freak you out." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Thanks."

"No problem. But, seriously, do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Don't move." He smiled.

"I was hoping you'd say that, because I don't know how well I'd do trying to make it back to the other room." She chuckled softly, yawning again. He yawned, pulling her closer. Within minutes, the two of them were fast asleep.


	10. The Morning After

A/N: I still only own Mia. The rest belong to CBS and CSI. I have a couple OCs that make cameos in this one, and what you need to know is that years prior to the story, one was a CSI in Las Vegas years ago, and the other is one of Mia's foster siblings. Other than that, thanks for the reviews, and please, the more you review, the more I desire to finish the story. :)

* * *

Chapter 9: The Morning After

The pounding of her head woke Mia up around 7:30, and she groaned in pain. She opened her eyes slowly before realizing she was in bed, with Greg. A split second moment of panic ensued before she realized that she was still dressed, and so was he. So what was he doing in bed with her? As she pondered that thought, she remembered the previous night of drinking and talking. Did she really tell him all that? She felt herself pale as she worked out of his arms and into the bathroom, vomiting her regret of last night's activities.

* * *

Greg woke up after Mia forced herself out of his arms, rushing into the bathroom. He paused, realizing that he had spent the night in her bed, with her, in a moment of vulnerability for her. He knew she'd be intolerable today after she remembered what she said the night before. He was still mildly reeling from the information she had given him, thinking and wondering how she'd made it through all that. And yet, part of him felt that she still had more to say. She never even touched upon why hearing her own first name threw her into a crazy fit.

He stood up, hearing her vomit in the bathroom. He wanted to go and hold her hair back and take care of her, but he also knew that if he tried, she'd probably try to kick him in the nuts. He walked over anyway, deciding he'd rather risk it than spend the day awkwardly ignoring one another. Which was probably going to happen anyway, according to his mind's eye. He knocked softly on the doorjamb, causing her to look his way. "You okay?" he asked softly. She sighed.

"I'm fine," she snapped, taking a few deep breaths. He nodded, standing awkwardly.

"Well, uh, I'm gonna go take a shower and get dressed," he said. She nodded, watching him as he walked out to fulfill his tasks.

* * *

He walked into his room of the suite, stripping and stepping into the shower. He felt the water rush down over him, warming him from the awkward tension between him and Mia. Today was going to be interesting, at this rate. He took a deep breath and released it with a sigh. Things were going to be tense and awkward, and inwardly, he hoped they'd be able to talk or move away from that. Instinct told him, though, that this would be as far as he'd get with it. He shook his head, choosing to think of something else. Something to relax him while he was in the shower.

* * *

She grabbed her things and a towel, walking back into the bathroom. She stripped down and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over her. She shuddered, hoping that her regrets about last night would wash down the drain with the water. She felt physically sick for having let Greg in like that, which was something she couldn't understand. Greg was a great guy who was the only person she worked with that seemed to actually give a shit about her. So why did it make her sick to have actually told him about her life?

It wasn't like he knew everything, she reasoned with herself. There was still a good portion that she hadn't told him. She could feel easier knowing that. But it was weird, now that he knew something. Now that he had something to stand on with her. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her shoulders under the water. She felt awkward, exposed in front of him. Like he knew way too much, without knowing much at all. She sighed, hugging herself under the water. Today was going to be awkward as hell.

* * *

They met up in the common room, both dressed professionally for the day's lectures with their ID badges clipped to them. They looked at one another, neither sure what to say at this point. Greg finally tucked his phone into his pocket before turning to her. "Ready?" he asked softly, afraid to speak louder.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice carrying more chill than normal. Greg sighed, not saying anything about her tone as he walked out of the room with her. They reached the lobby with their colleagues, and the two of them split up from each other. Ryan noticed this and pulled Greg aside.

"Dude, what did you do last night?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Greg replied, confused.

"Did you sleep with her or something? Because she's hating you right now."

"Okay, Ryan, let's be honest here. You don't even know her, or me. I didn't sleep with her, and she doesn't hate me."

"That's why she made her way away from you as fast as she could, because she doesn't hate you. That makes a lot of sense."

"She doesn't hate me." _She hates herself, and she's taking it out on me,_ he added to himself silently. Ryan shrugged.

"Whatever, dude. I'm gonna go find Danny." Ryan walked away, and Greg looked over at Mia as she talked with Karalynne James, a CSI from Madison. She was talking animatedly, and he could only guess that she was arguing about something with Karalynne, probably about some case or politics. Those were her two favorite topics. Jason Simpleton, a CSI from Raleigh, patted Greg on the shoulder.

"You got it bad for her, huh?" he asked, looking at the younger man. Greg shook his head.

"Jay, if you knew her, you wouldn't even ask," he replied.

"So, you do, but she's a pain in the ass, huh?" Greg laughed.

"I don't have it bad for her, but she is a pain in the ass."

"Good to know. I heard about your CSIs, Sidle and Keppler. You work with them?" Greg sighed, knowing that this was coming.

"I worked with Sara for years. Keppler was here only a couple weeks, though. He was supposed to be on Days, but our supervisor took a sabbatical, so he was with us."

"I'm really sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Who you guys got now?"

"Ecklie's our AD."

"Oh, great." Greg laughed at Jason's sarcasm.

"Exactly. Grissom's head of nights, Catherine's a co-supervisor, and Nick, Warrick, Mia, and I hold down the shift."

"Mia? As in Salvatori? I thought she was in LA."

"She came to Vegas to replace Keppler on days, and then became nights after Sara died." Jason nodded.

"How's that working out for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard a lot about her." Greg chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, you can't believe all that you hear."

"Right. Well, how's it going out there?"

"You really miss us that much, don't you?"

"Yeah, kind of. Except I don't miss Ecklie. I can't believe that hack is AD of the lab now."

"Join the club. You've been gone what, eight years now?" Jason nodded. "Damn. Now I almost feel old."

"Kid, you're what, 30 now?" Jason asked.

"32," Greg replied.

"Oh, excuse me. 32. You still have a long way to go before you can start to feel old, my friend." Greg laughed.

"Yeah, I know. So how's supervising Raleigh going for you?"

* * *

Mia sat down in the auditorium, closing her eyes tiredly. Her headache was growing worse, and she was growing more aggravated with everyone else at the conference. She felt two hands rest on her shoulders and start massaging them. "Hey, Amelia," a soothing, deep voice said. She smiled.

"Brian," she said, turning her head. He kissed her temple.

"How are you, dear?"

"I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm great. How's Vegas treating you?" She laughed.

"Annoying as anywhere else. You still in L.A.?"

"Yep, and I'm lovin' it. Selina sends her best."

"I send them back. How's Antony?"

"He's wonderful." Greg walked over, sitting down next to her quietly.

"That's great. Greg, this is Brian Andrews. He's one of by brothers. Brian, this is Greg Sanders, one of my colleagues."

"Nice to meet you," Brian said, shaking Greg's hand.

"Likewise," Greg replied.

"Oh, hey, Amelia, I didn't tell you yet. Selina's pregnant again."

"Really?" Mia asked. "That's great. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Brian replied.

"Did you tell Antony yet?"

"He's only a year old, but I think he understands." She smiled.

"That's great." She turned to Greg. "Antony's their first son," she explained. He nodded, smiling.

"Congratulations," he said.

"Thanks," Brian replied, still massaging Mia's shoulders. She rolled her neck gently, and he kept massaging her neck and shoulders. "You're really tense. Are you hung over?" She laughed.

"Definitely," she told him.

"Who'd you get drunk with last night?"

"Him." She gestured at Greg, who felt a pang of nerves hit him. Brian nodded.

"What'd you guys do?"

"Talk."

"Ah. Now I get it."

"Get what?"

"Why you've been avoiding him all day. Yesterday, the two of you were inseparable, mingling as a united force for Las Vegas. Today, you came down together, but darted away from each other the second you had a chance. So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you're making his life awkward."

"You might be right," she said, glancing at Greg. Greg didn't react, looking ahead at the stage.

"Give the boy a chance."

"You don't even know him."

"But neither do you, my dear. He's not gonna hurt you, use the knowledge against you, or anything else your twisted mind comes up with."

"How do you know?"

"He's a CSI, and a cop. Our lives are built around secrecy." She looked at him, chuckling.

"You don't know that." Greg looked over for a second, and Mia caught his eye, giving him a small smile. He returned it as the lecturer began the program for them.


	11. Back to Vegas

A/N: I know, it's been a while, but I've been wicked busy with school. Anyway, I only own Mia and the few unrecognized characters (aka family and Jay) that were mentioned in passing. In this chapter, they've come home! We also have a little bit of violence in this chapter (not much, but a little), and some swearing, and some new stuff comes to light, so just be kinda warned. Please read and review. :)

* * *

Chapter 10: Back to Vegas 

Greg walked into the break room, finding Nick waiting for him. "So, how was the conference?" he asked, intrigued. Greg shrugged.

"It was fine," he said calmly. Nick arched his eyebrows.

"Fine?"

"Yeah. The presentations were either really good or really shitty, but that's most conferences. Made some good networking. Hung out with Ryan from Miami, Brian from L.A., Danny from New York, Jay Simpleton, and some other CSIs. Food wasn't bad, but it's my friend's hotel."

"Right. How was Mia?" Greg shrugged.

"She was alright."

"Well, you're alive, so that's a good thing. She gonna be in tonight, or did you kill her?"

"She'll be in." Nick nodded, still not understanding.

"So you had a decent time with her on a trip? Locked in a room with her for three nights and four days?"

"Yeah." Nick shook his head.

"I don't believe it."

"Believe what you will." Mia walked in, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Hey there, Fat Ass," she snapped at Nick. Greg chuckled.

"Hey Mia," Nick droned, nodding at Greg and leaving the room. Greg watched him before looking at Mia, who was smirking.

"As long as that annoys him, I'll keep doing that."

"You're mean," Greg said, shaking his head with a smile.

"Oh, I know," she replied, grinning. "But I hate him."

"You do not. You hate what he used to be." She shrugged.

"You're probably right. You're probably definitely right. But I just don't give a shit." He laughed, shaking his head again.

"You're mean."

"Again, I know." He smiled softly. "You enjoy it. I'm saying things that you may think, but don't have the balls to say. So you enjoy my mean streak."

"Nick's not fat." She shrugged.

"Depends on your definition. He's got some pudge and chubby cheeks. That's not fat, that's chunky, but I'm trying to inspire him to lose weight."

"I'm not sure he really cares about what you think."

"Really? Why do you think it annoys him what I say? Why do you think that he flips out on me? He values my opinion, my thoughts, my presence, even though he says otherwise. Because if he didn't give a shit, he wouldn't yell at me when I did something potentially dangerous or stupid."

"Why do you do things like that?" Warrick walked in, and Mia shook her head.

"We'll talk later. How's it goin', Warrick?" Warrick looked at her, almost taken aback by her question.

"It's alright. You?"

"Fine." Warrick glanced at Greg with his eyebrows arched. Greg shrugged. "He didn't do anything in Santa Monica that made me change. And I haven't changed. So don't even think about that."

"Sorry. You just seemed more happy and cheerful today."

"Well, I'm in a decent mood for the start." Hodges walked into the break room, and Mia groaned. "Well, I _**was**_ in a decent mood."

"I haven't even said anything to you, Cat, so why don't you shut up?" he snapped. She groaned.

"You just did," she growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kitty."

"Keep going. See what happens."

"Catalina, I don't quite understand."

"I'm going to fucking punch you in the face."

"Why's that, Katie?"

"Because I hate that name."

"Oh really, Kate?"

"Say one more variation, and I'm going to kick your fucking ass."

"Play nice, Lina." She punched him in the face, catching Warrick and Greg slightly off-guard. Even though she had threatened it, they never thought she'd actually hit him. She punched him again before Greg pulled her off.

"I fucking hate you, David Michael Hodges. Go die and rot in a fucking hole far the hell away from me."

"You testy little bitch! Keep your fucking temper in check." Nick and Catherine ran into the break room, having heard commotion coming from the room. Mia struggled against Greg, who held her tighter.

"Ignore him," he whispered softly to her. She rolled her eyes.

"He's fucking baiting me!" she yelled at him, fighting him.

"Mia, don't make me inadvertently hurt you right now. Take it easy." She sighed softly.

"I'm okay."

"Yeah, just a second with your little fuck buddy and you're all good," Hodges snapped. "You fucking slut." She fought against Greg, trying to go after him.

"I'm not fucking Greg!" she shouted.

"Right. That's why after you're little California excursion with him, you came back all relaxed. We should get attendance records from the sessions. Make sure you guys actually went."

"Hodges, if I were you, I'd shut up," Greg warned.

"Oh, what are you gonna do?" he asked.

"I'll let her go. I have no doubts about her ability to kill you."

"Of course you don't. Can't doubt the one you're fucking every night."

"You're jealous," Nick said. Hodges laughed.

"Jealous of what?" he asked.

"She actually has some level of caring for Greg. She completely hates you."

"In case you haven't noticed, Stokes, she isn't exactly fond of you either."

"Yeah, but I don't care. You do."

"I don't care who she wastes her time with."

"Right," Mia snapped. "That's why you showed up at my door one night, you keep emailing me constantly, and you called me out in Santa Monica, because you don't care."

"I didn't say that I didn't care," Hodges said as Grissom walked in to find Greg holding Mia back and Hodges's face bruised and bleeding.

"You're an obsessive stalker!"

"I'm not obsessive, or stalking you. I don't watch you sleep or anything."

"Oh, thank God for small miracles. Do me a fucking favor and leave me the fuck alone."

"What's going on here?" Grissom asked, causing the six in the room to snap their attention to him.

"Good question," Warrick replied, looking at Mia and Hodges.

"She punched me," Hodges said, angrily.

"You deserved it!" Mia replied. "I'd hit you again if I could, but fucking Sanders won't let go of me."

"You don't want him to. You fucking slut!" She fought against Greg's hold suddenly, causing Greg to almost let her go. Nick stood in front of her, blocking her path to Hodges.

"Mia, as much as I'd want you to beat the smug jackass to a pulp, think for a minute," Nick said. "Is he really worth potentially getting fired?"

"Yes!" she screamed. Nick put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him squarely in the eye.

"Is he really worth it?" he asked again, softer than before. She sighed.

"Maybe not, but I'm not dealing with this fucking shit any more! This is fucking ridiculous!" Grissom groaned.

"Hodges, to your lab," he ordered. "Mia, to my office." Hodges smirked, as if to say 'ha-ha, you're in trouble.' Mia lunged at him, falling more into Nick than anything. "Now, Hodges!" Hodges left the break room, smiling. After he was gone, Nick moved out of Mia's way, and Greg walked with her down to Grissom's office, determined to stop her if she even made a move for the Trace lab. She sighed softly, looking at him.

"I'm sorry," she told Greg quietly.

"About what?" he asked.

"You having to hold me back. Me losing my temper. Take your pick."

"Why do you let him get under your skin like that?"

"I don't know, Greg. If I did… yeah, I still wouldn't tell you. But seriously, that fucker just has a way of pissing me off."

"His bloody nose can attest to that."

"I did get him pretty good, didn't I?"

"Yeah. And I'm not going to lie and say he didn't have it coming, because he did, but I don't understand the 'whys' and 'wherefores'."

"That makes two of us." Greg shook his head, knowing she was lying to him. She knew why she couldn't not fight with him, but she wasn't about to tell him. She entered Grissom's office, and Greg stood in the doorway, waiting and guarding while Grissom visited with Hodges. Mia rolled her eyes. "You don't have to babysit," she snapped.

"Sure I do," Greg replied, looking at her. "The second I leave you alone here, you're going to leave and go beat the shit out of Hodges."

"What does it matter? I'm going to be suspended anyway. And then Ecklie's gonna make sure I get fired. Maybe this time I'll relocate to Miami and piss off Ryan Wolfe. He just got re-instated out there anyway. He'd be a good fucking mentor or something."

"You're not going to get fired."

"I noticed you didn't say I wasn't going to get suspended."

"That's going to depend on how much you tell Grissom. If I were you, I'd tell him everything about what happened between the two of you."

"You don't even know what happened."

"And right now, I'm not the one that needs to. You wanna stay here? You better talk. Otherwise, he's going to agree with Ecklie." She sighed.

"Maybe that's not a bad idea," she said softly. "Get away from him."

"You can work with him," Greg reminded her.

"Not right now. And he has seniority over me."

"Sweetie, you just did something that ninety percent of the lab has been dying to do for the past five years, okay? Think about that. Grissom included. Fuck, even Ecklie included. But you gotta explain where it came from."

"I can't believe you're counseling me on this."

"Well, someone's gotta help you save your own ass." She chuckled.

"But you?"

"If you're gonna be picky, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"No you wouldn't." He shrugged as Grissom walked in.

"Good luck." Greg left the office, closing the door behind him. Mia sighed, looking at Grissom in front of her.

"How much trouble am I in?" she asked softly. He sighed.

"You're looking at a minimum of two weeks suspension, unpaid," he told her. She nodded. "You could get fired for this, Mia. What were you thinking?"

"He and I have a history."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was in L.A., so was he. We dated, had a relationship. We worked together in the lab, sort of. I was a kid and I was in love and completely stupid. I fell so hard for him." She fell silent for a moment, shaking her head. Grissom watched with intense curiosity. "One night, I came home after a tough day, and he was bothering me about how I hadn't answered when he called earlier, even though he knew I was working. We got into the huge fight because I wasn't in the mood to deal with him and he was just generally pissy. And things got worse and worse and…" She clenched her fists tightly. "He hit me." She was pissed off at recalling it, and Grissom inwardly flinched at her story. "And I left him. Shortly after that, he was forced to leave the crime lab. And ever since I got here and started working nights with him, he won't leave me alone. He stalks me, he's obsessive, and he just generally won't leave me alone. I think this time he may have gotten the message that I don't want to deal with him." She shrugged.

"I would say I'm sorry," she continued, "but I'm not at all. If you ask me, I should've hit him the night he showed up at my house, unannounced. Instead, I let him in and gave him something to wear. God, that was stupid."

"When was that?" Grissom asked.

"I don't know, the night Greg and Brass had quality bonding over scotch in his office. He wants to just go back to where we were before, but I can't. Ever. And he doesn't understand that, so he keeps harassing me and I'm getting sick of it. And now he's calling me a slut and saying I'm fucking Greg, which couldn't be further from the truth, but he doesn't hear it and doesn't give a shit. We were doing fine working together until he showed up at my house. I don't know anymore. Maybe you should let me go or transfer me. He was here first."

"No."

"Fire me?"

"I'm not going to do that. You're the victim here, Mia. Unfortunately, I still have to suspend you for two weeks. But beyond that, we're going to work with this situation to where both you and Hodges are satisfied."

"I will work civilly with him. I've been doing that. I don't want him to contact me outside of work, though. Can that happen?"

"We can try." She nodded.

"Okay. I guess I should probably go then, huh?" Grissom didn't react. "Right. Well, I'll see you in two weeks." He nodded, watching her walk out of his office. She remained calm and collected for a while until she ran into Greg in the locker room.

"How'd it go?" he asked softly, leaning against the locker. She sighed.

"I'm suspended for two weeks," she told him. "Beyond that, I don't know what Grissom's gonna do." Greg sighed, stepping closer to her as Hodges snuck into the doorway.

"It'll be okay." She shrugged.

"I don't care anymore, Greg. Whether I'm here or not. It might be better if I leave."

"Why?" He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently. Hodges groaned.

"Because then I wouldn't have to worry."

"What are you worried about?"

"You guys know too much. Well, you know too much. Grissom doesn't really know anything." Greg nodded, rubbing her shoulders still. Hodges shook his head, leaving the doorway. Mia looked over her shoulder at Greg before shrugging. "Oh, well. I'll see you in two weeks."

"I thought we were doing dinner tomorrow night?" She nodded.

"Right. I forgot. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Take care." She nodded again, walking out of the locker room and leaving Greg to slouch onto the bench.


	12. A Lesson in Stalking and Assuming

A/N: I only own Mia. The rest belong to CSI and CBS. In this chapter, we see the world (kinda) from Hodges' POV, hence the title of the chapter. That being said, her and Greg are not completely together yet. Just some more background. There's only a few chapters left, so please be kind and review. :)

* * *

Chapter 11: A Lesson in Stalking and Assuming

Hodges crept up to Mia's living room window, glancing through the curtains. He knew it was illegal what he was doing, but he had to know. Did she really hate him? Was she really with Greg? She would be returning to work the next night, which meant that he had to get to the bottom of this before she got there. He sighed, looking at Greg's car in her driveway as he hid in her bushes. Greg was always there.

"You know something?" she asked softly.

"What's that?" Greg replied, looking at her. He was sitting on the couch, holding a glass of wine in his hand. She was sitting next to him, holding a glass as well with her bare feet on the coffee table.

"You know a lot more about my past than I know about yours."

"Well, what do you want to know?" She bit the inside of her lip.

"What's the biggest mistake you've made so far?" He arched his eyebrows.

"So many choices."

"We've got all night."

"Well, I think hitting Demitrius was a big mistake."

"Even if he was going to kill you?" He shrugged.

"I don't know that he was actually going to kill me. And if he had tried, then I could've done something."

"Until the gang comes back, and then you're dead." He shrugged.

"Back up was on the way, and they would've left, just like they did. Doesn't matter, because what's done is done."

"You don't believe that," she said, watching his face. "The more you think about it, the more you hate yourself for what you did." He shrugged.

"I have that right, don't I?"

"Greg, the man was a killer. Even if he wasn't, he was up on assault charges, conspiracy after the fact, and other stuff. He was a criminal, and he would've killed you. And then we wouldn't be here."

"Maybe Sara still would," he whispered. Mia tilted her head.

"What do you mean?" She put her hand on his shoulder, and he sighed.

"I was the one in the helicopter. I was the one looking down. And I couldn't find her. I failed, and now she's dead." Mia sighed.

"Greg, sweetie, it's been three months."

"Sweetie?" Hodges whispered to himself. "She's calling him 'sweetie'?"

"-you told anyone else about this?" she continued. Greg shook his head. "Why not?"

"Who am I going to tell?" he asked. "The therapist doesn't care, and how would I explain to the team that I failed?"

"You didn't fail, Greg. You did the best you could. There's only so much you can do." He shrugged.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter now." She frowned, rubbing his shoulder gently as Hodges gagged outside.

"They've gotta be together," Hodges whispered. "She wouldn't give a shit if they weren't."

"Anything else you wanna get off your chest?" she asked, looking at Greg. He sighed.

"What else do you want to know?" he replied, looking at her.

"What was your childhood like?"

"Being tied to my mother's apron." She chuckled.

"Seriously?"

"Yep. See, my mom had always wanted four kids. Instead, she only got one. Just me. She vowed to never let anything happen to me so long as she could help it. If I got a nosebleed, she'd take me to the ER."

"So that's why you're so quirky and gentle with the ladies." He chuckled.

"I guess."

"It's not a bad thing, you know."

"No?"

"Makes you more of a gentleman." He smiled, and Hodges had to protect himself from throwing up in the bush.

"Thanks." Greg's face was pink, and Hodges groaned.

"You can't have always been this happy, everything's great, right? I mean, there had to be something that was a problem for you. No one's life is that perfect." Greg shrugged.

"No, but it hasn't been that bad. My mom's parents are still alive, but my dad's parents died before I was born, so I never met them. I was a geek, so all the popular kids picked me on in school. Until they all realized that I'm funnier and cooler than they would ever be while also being really smart, and then they all wanted to hang out with me."

"How many relationships have you had?"

"Define relationship. I kissed a girl on the cheek in kindergarten."

"That doesn't count."

"We were married by first grade." She laughed.

"Seriously, Greg."

"Are you talking dating or just having sex?"

"Either or."

"Dating… I've had four long-term girlfriends. Just having sex, I've had six."

"When'd you lose your virginity?"

"22." She nodded. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Relationships, that stuff. Answer the questions you asked me." She sighed.

"I've had five boyfriends, no just-sex relationships." He nodded, picking up on the fact that she wasn't about to continue.

"Ever been close to getting married?"

"No. You?"

"Once." She grinned.

"You're not talking about the playground wedding, right?" He laughed.

"No, I'm not," he told her. "I was in college, and I had been dating this girl for a while, so I asked her to marry me. She said no and broke up with me, so I killed her."

"Wait, what?" Mia asked. Greg laughed again.

"Kidding. I didn't kill her."

"I was gonna say, I thought you only killed one person in your life."

"Ouch." She shrugged, smiling.

"Hey, you wouldn't be with me if you didn't like getting cut." Hodges groaned dismally outside. She admitted it. They're together. He stalked away, walking to his car. She was with Greg now. He had lost the war to Sanders, of all people. He sighed painfully, driving away from her house as he formulated his plan. Because there was nothing left to do now.


	13. Off Suspension and On Rough Times

A/N: Because of the response to the last chapter, I was inspired to submit this one now. :) I still only own Mia. The rest belong to CSI and CBS. The end is in sight for this story, and Greg kinda flips out in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 12: Off Suspension and On Rough Times

Mia sighed, taking off her jacket and putting it into her locker. Greg walked up behind her, rubbing her shoulders gently. "It'll be okay," he whispered to her. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine," she told him curtly. He grinned.

"I know. You'll be great tonight."

"I always am." She grabbed something out of her locker as Greg patted her shoulders, walking away. She left the lockers, walking into the break room. Nick looked up from his cup of coffee.

"So, you're back," he said dryly.

"Yep," she replied. "I didn't get fired."

"Congratulations." He turned back to his cup of coffee, and she rolled her eyes. She slid a piece of paper in front of him, causing him to look up. "What's this?"

"Read it, Dumbass." She walked over to the fridge as he read the paper in front of him. As she took a sip from her soda, he sharply looked up at her.

"Are you fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah."

"'Thanks for your help, but I don't need you to save me. I can handle myself.' What kind of bullshit is this?"

"Look, I'm glad you were there to help out, okay? But I don't need a knight in shining armor. You're always doing that."

"I'm sorry, I'm protective of my colleagues. You're the first person to ever really complain about it." She snorted.

"I'm not complaining."

"Yes, you are." She sighed.

"Then it came out wrong."

"And why are you actually botherin' to thank me? You never did any other time."

"Because, I just… felt like I had to say something."

"Why?" He was defensive, and she was confused, providing an ironic role-reversal in her mind. She sighed.

"I don't know, dammit. Leave it the fuck alone."

"Fine." He took a drink from his coffee, and she gulped her soda. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "You're welcome." She nodded. "But dammit, you gotta stop tryin' to get yourself fired or killed."

"You sound like an ex-boyfriend of mine," she said softly.

"Well, if it weren't true, I wouldn't be sayin' it," he said.

"Well, Fatty McStufferson, if I wanted your advice or words of wisdom, I'd beat it out of you. Until then, don't offer your shit, okay?" He laughed.

"Whatever, Bitch." She shook her head, keeping her face angry as she realized that her and Nick had just come to an understanding. Greg walked in, winking at her, which was something that didn't go unnoticed by Nick. "So, when did you two finally get together?" he asked.

"We're not," Mia snapped.

"Not at all?"

"Nope," Greg said, smiling.

"Not yet, anyway," Nick muttered, rolling his eyes. Greg and Mia looked at one another before laughing. "You laugh, kids, but you'll be together soon."

"Right, because I can actually stand her narcissistic ways."

"And I can stand his annoying quirks and bad jokes," Mia droned. Greg looked at her, and the two of them laughed. Nick shook his head as Warrick and Catherine walked in.

"You're in a good mood," Catherine commented, glancing at Mia. She rolled her eyes.

"Bite me," she muttered to her superior.

"I am your superior, and you're just coming back from suspension. You want to get fired?"

"Maybe. Then I wouldn't be here with all of you guys."

"You hate us that much?" Warrick asked. She rolled her eyes.

"I don't hate anyone," she said. "I just don't like how much you guys hate me. The only way the four of you grouped together and got over Sara's death was by hating me. Hodges is a pain in the ass to me, and you all stand back and let him be one. But when it comes to me punching him in the face, you're all quick to calm me down. Why is that? Who are you protecting? Me from losing my job or him from being killed by me? Think about that."

"We don't hate you."

"Really? Then explain to me why the only one of you that actually has tried to talk to me on a personal basis is Greg. And don't even try saying that I was easier on him from the beginning, because I was just as much a bitch to him."

"Why do we always have to have this fight?" Greg jumped in, causing everyone to look at him. "Every time we start getting into the slightest disagreement, it always turns into a discussion about how everyone here's against Mia and how she wants to leave but can't. I don't understand. I know she doesn't really want to leave, because she actually does enjoy working here. And you guys know that she's not as bad as you're trying to make her feel like she is. So why do we get into this stupid downward spiral of hell? It's petty and pointless. We spend more time and energy tearing each other apart sometimes than we do actually solving crimes. I'm sick of this. I feel like I'm always the one in the middle between you guys. The three of you gang up against her, she's against you, and I'm sitting here listening. I'm fucking tired of this. We get into the same stupid fucking fight every five days. Why?"

"Because you're the only person in here that's remotely okay with me," Mia said to Greg softly. Everyone else in the room was speechless. "You're not asking me to change, like everyone else in this room is or has at some point. You've let me be, quirks and moments and all. You talk to me rationally, the same way you just did for all of us, except usually with a little less anger and enthusiasm. No one else ever tries. They all approach me with anger, with annoyance, with their guard up. And they have since before they ever met me personally. So it's hard for me to sit back and not feel upset and persecuted when almost every interaction I've had with any one of you guys from day one has been a defensive one. You guys never wanted me to be in your group, on your team, here. I make Sara's death real. I make you guys have to move on. And that's not something you guys want to do. I can't blame you. Sara was an amazing person, irreplaceable, but you have to understand that I'm not trying to replace her. I'm just trying to exist." She sighed, shaking her head. "I doubt if any of you guys even care. I'm gonna go find Grissom. Catch you later, Greg." Greg nodded, and Mia left the room before anyone else spoke.

"Maybe we'd actually try if she wasn't so bad," Catherine snapped. "The first thing she ever said to us was a list of things for us to not call her. Come on now. What kind of tone is she expecting here?"

"She's a decent person when you get to know her," Greg said. "You just don't know her."

"Please, Greg. I doubt she has a decent bone in her body. She's cruel, and for Christ's sake, she punched Hodges."

"Can you honestly tell me that you haven't ever wanted to punch him?" Catherine didn't respond, and Greg nodded. "That's what I thought. She acted on it. You know how annoying he is here? He followed her home. He incessantly called her, emailed her, practically stalked her, and for no reason. And when she's here, he touches her, he harasses her. Would you put up with that?"

"No," she said softly.

"She put up with that for about a month and a half before she acted out against him. So don't bring that against her. Yeah, she's somewhat difficult, but you guys have approached her with annoyance, anger, and pain. I hurt just as much about Sara as you guys, yet I seem to be the only one willing to actually take a chance." He sighed, sitting down at the table. The three older CSIs looked at one another before turning back to him.

"I'm sorry," Warrick said.

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," Greg told him, shaking his head. The three looked at one another, silent.

* * *

Mia knocked on the doorjamb of Grissom's office, making him look up from his work. "You, uh, wanted to see me when I came in?" she said, leaning against the frame.

"Yeah," he said. "Come in." She nodded, walking in and closing the door. "You seem upset."

"I'm not. Well, not really."

"Hodges?" She snorted bitterly.

"I wish. More like Catherine, Warrick, and Nick. That's in descending order." He sighed, nodding.

"What happened this time?"

"You know, I feel bad for Greg." Grissom looked at her, confused. "Every time Catherine, Warrick, and Nick gang up against me, he's thrown in the middle. I hate that for him."

"You care a lot for Greg, huh?" She shrugged.

"He's a good kid who's always been there for me. He's had my back when most of you guys have brushed me off and hated me. I haven't been any tougher on you guys than him or vice versa, yet he's the only one that actually gives a shit." She shrugged. "I guess I just feel bad for him."

"Why?"

"What are you, a psychiatrist?" Grissom didn't answer, and Mia sighed. "Sorry. I don't know. He's had a rough year, what with getting his ass kicked, the inquiry, being sued, and then Sara's death. He's too good of a person who's been through a lot. I don't want him to…" She stopped, looking down. Grissom watched her closely.

"Don't want him to what?" he asked softly. She looked up at him, shaking her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Forget about it." Grissom sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get anything else out of her on top of that.

"How are you doing?" he changed topics.

"Aside from tonight, I'm okay. I don't think I'll be punching out Hodges again any time soon, but what would happen if I did it again?"

"You'd be fired. This was your warning." She nodded.

"So, what should I do if he's bothering me again?" Her wording seemed genuine, not angry like usual, but Grissom chalked it up to the fact that she was upset about the earlier incident. Or maybe she was changing. He wasn't exactly sure.

"Just tell me, and I'll handle it." She nodded, sighing. "I know you're not a fan of sitting back and letting someone else fight your battles, but it's the way we have to handle this." She nodded again.

"Anything else we need to go over before I can get back to life?" He chuckled.

"Not really."

"Okay. Can we get started?" Grissom nodded, standing up with her. They left his office, and he turned to her.

"How were your two weeks?" he asked. She chuckled.

"Boring," she replied, shaking her head. "But I'd rather be bored like that than harassed by David." Grissom nodded.

"Understandable." She turned to him.

"You ever wanted to punch him?" He arched his eyebrows and looked at her.

"No," he said pointedly. She shook her head, laughing.

"Which means that you did, but you don't want to tell me that because then it affirms what I did. Am I right?" The look on his face and lack of response agreed with her.

"You love to start stuff, don't you?" She laughed softly.

"That's what they all say." The two walked into the break room to find Greg in the corner, still angry but calming down. Nick, Catherine, and Warrick were sitting at the table, silent, deep in thought.

"Everything okay in here?" Grissom addressed his employees. The three at the table didn't respond as Greg watched them from the corner.

"We'll be fine," the younger man said finally, watching the other three as they nodded in agreement.

"Okay… Well, I have your assignments for the night…"


	14. Dinner Out With A Twist

A/N: I still only own Mia. Thank you guys so much for all your feedback. I love reviews. :) This is the third to last chapter (sad, isn't it?), so after this, expect two more. :) This is a kind of light-hearted set up chapter into the next part, but having said that, it's not completely happy and fluffy, because nothing ever really is with Mia... lol. Okay, enjoy this one, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 13: Dinner Out, With a Twist

Greg pulled out her chair, causing Mia to roll her eyes. "Chivalry is dead, old-timer," she quipped, causing him to laugh. Nevertheless, she sat in the chair, and he helped her push it in.

"I like to sometimes act older than my age," he said, smiling. She shook her head.

"Rarely more than sometimes."

"Is this how it's gonna be? Just picking on each other all night?"

"Isn't that how it always is?" He shrugged.

"I was thinking an environment change would alter the conversation."

"Babe, environment doesn't matter. I woulda thought by now you'd realize that I'll be argumentative and inappropriate in any forum."

"True. By the way, Ryan called the other day and asked if you were still a bitch."

"He's obsessed. What'd you tell him?"

"That you were worse than before."

"You liar." He smiled, and watched as Catherine and Grissom sat down near them. Greg arched his eyebrows, catching Mia's attention. He nodded over at them, and she looked. "Great," she sighed. "Exactly who I needed to look at to kill my appetite."

"What are you talking about? You don't eat." She laughed.

"That's why you brought me to the expensive restaurant, huh?"

"Not really. It's more because you've already been to the diner." She laughed again.

"That place gets you into a lot of panties, huh?" Greg blushed, inciting Mia's giggles.

"Shut up."

"Admit it. You get no ass there."

"You are crude and blunt, huh?"

"You didn't already know that?" He shrugged.

"I did, but I didn't want to think it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just didn't."

"Weirdo." He shrugged.

"You're the one going out with me," he whispered. She smiled.

"Yeah, and you're the one going out with a fucking whack job head case," she replied. Greg laughed.

"Guilty as charged." He glanced over at their coworkers, who were talking quietly. "Do you think they're talking about us?" She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him critically.

"Paranoia much?" He chuckled, shrugging.

"Just curious."

"I doubt they've even noticed us, and if they did, Catherine's probably talking about how you can do so much better than me and about how I'm such a horrible person, and Grissom's just sitting there because he doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what to say." Greg was silent for a minute, thinking.

"That was a really long sentence." She shook her head, chuckling. "And now who's paranoid?"

"Come on. Catherine hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She just strongly dislikes the way you are."

"Isn't that kinda the same thing?"

"Not really."

"How isn't it?"

"Hating you means there's no room for improvement. Strongly disliking means there's a chance for you two to actually have some sort of friendship. She actually strongly disliked Sara at first." Mia shrugged.

"I don't doubt that. Do you realize that even though everyone's quick to say I'm not Sara, they always compare me to her?" Greg furrowed his brow pensively.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not intentional."

"It's okay. She always told me I was kinda like her, just a lot more intense. And I can't say I don't agree. But she was a lot nicer, a lot more friendly, smoother around the edges. I'm a fucking bitch. Which is why I can't understand why you actually care about me."

"Someone has to," he joked. She smiled slightly and then shook her head.

"No, Greg," she said. "Be serious. Why do you like me?"

"Because there's something about you. I really can't explain it. You're mysterious, and you try your damndest to keep everyone at arm's length, but you still care a lot about people. Especially your friends. You're willing to die for them if the situation warrants it. You're not afraid to sacrifice yourself, and I admire that. I wish I had that quality."

"Says the guy who risked his life and career to save a man. You're a lot more heroic than you give yourself credit for, Sanders." He shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter. I do wish, though, that you sometimes valued your own life as much as everyone else's. I love that you're willing to risk it all, but you do it even when you don't have to."

"I know," she said softly. "I've always kinda had a death wish. Hard not to when you feel like you don't have anything left to live for."

"Why do you feel that way?" An innocent question, she realized, but she shook her head anyway.

"I don't want to get into that here." Greg nodded as the waitress walked over.

"Fair enough." They ordered their food, and Greg watched as Hodges walked in with Henry, Bobby, Mandy, and Wendy. Mia glanced over, paling at the sight of Hodges, but giving Wendy a warm smile. She looked over at Greg, shocked.

"Did everyone suddenly have a desire to eat here?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" She shook her head.

"It's just a coincidence. Besides, Grissom's right over there, so Hodges won't give me any shit." Greg smiled.

"Yeah. He wouldn't with me around, either."

"He would. He's afraid of Grissom's disapproval, though."

"True." She looked at the lab techs sharing a booth before looking back at Greg. "Do you think they think that we're on a date?" He shrugged.

"I don't know. Would it kill you if they did?" She shook her head.

"I don't care what they think. In fact, I hope Hodges does think we're on a date. Maybe then he'll leave me alone and stop trying to get back in my pants." Greg arched his eyebrows.

"He still bothering you?"

"Not since I punched him, really. But I do think it's odd that him and the other techs came here for dinner tonight. Usually they all go somewhere else."

"And you think he had something to do with that?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"How would he know you're here?"

"I'm pretty sure he's still stalking me, but I can't seem to catch him in the act." Greg shook his head.

"If he's still stalking you, and I catch him, I'll fucking kill him." Mia smiled slightly, chuckling. "What?"

"You trying to be protective is like a mouse not being afraid of a cat running after it."

"Hey, you're the one that said I'm pretty heroic."

"Greg, a squirrel has more muscles than you do." He sighed, shaking his head and looking around the restaurant. He noted that Hodges was watching them, though he was trying to make it obvious that he wasn't. Greg took Mia's hand in his own, and she looked at him curiously before noticing what he was watching. Hodges reacted by draping his arm behind Wendy's shoulders. Wendy didn't notice, too engrossed in her conversation with the others at the table.

"He's definitely still stalking you," Greg told her softly. Mia shook her head.

"He's so pathetic that I almost feel a mild bit sorry for him," she said, matching Greg's tone.

"You wanna let Grissom know?"

"Later. Now is not the time or place." Greg nodded, squeezing her hand gently. Hodges leaned toward his dinner mates, trying to make it seem like he wasn't watching them anymore. Mia shook her head. "I love the fact that he knows he's busted, yet he's trying to hide it."

"Yeah." Mia looked up at Greg, finding him looking concerned.

"What's on your mind, Einstein?" He shook his head.

"I don't know. Nothing in my history tells me I should be worried about Hodges stalking you. He's not particularly violent, at least that I've seen. Yet I can't shake this feeling that I don't want him near you." She smiled slightly.

"You don't need to worry about me," she assured him. "I can hold my own."

"I know you can, but I'm still worried," Greg said. "Something seems off about this, him. More off than usual. I can't place my finger on it though." She shrugged.

"I think that's your overactive imagination kicking in, with a little help from your paranoia." Greg chuckled softly.

"You might be right."

"Dear, I'm always right." He smiled.

"True."

"Oh, now you're trying to get suck up points. You do know those don't happen with me, right?"

"I believe I already got that memo, but thanks for the reminder." She smiled.

"You're smart."

"Thank you. You're not bad." She shook her head.

"You're lucky I like you, because if I didn't, I would've killed you for that comment." Greg smiled.

"I know." He kissed her on the cheek softly as their dinners arrived. The two of them continued to flirt as they ate, enjoying each other's company.

* * *

Catherine and Grissom sat at their table, eating and watching their coworkers. "They're definitely dating," she told him. He shrugged.

"I think Greg could be good for her," he told her. Catherine rolled her eyes.

"She's just going to hurt Greg. That's all she does." Grissom didn't respond. "You know it as well as I do. That's why you won't say anything."

"That's not why I'm not saying anything," he said, taking a bite of his steak.

"Come on," she said. "I asked you out tonight because you need to get out more, and to talk about our coworkers."

"I can't tell you anything Mia and I have talked about."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you with my life."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"It's confidential."

"Tell me this, then. Greg said the other night that Hodges has been stalking Mia. Is that true?" Grissom shrugged. "Oh, come on, Gil. You do know."

"If you want the answer, you have to ask her yourself. You know I don't share things about my employees like that."

"I thought you hated her, though." Catherine grabbed a bite of her chicken onto her fork.

"I actually admire her." She stopped mid-bite, looking sharply at him.

"Are you serious?"

"There's a lot you don't know, Catherine."

"Then explain it to me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it took me a while to get her to even say anything to me. I want her to be able to talk to me."

"She'd never know, Gil." Grissom shook his head.

"It's not my place to say anything." Catherine sighed, shaking her head as she looked back over at Greg and Mia.

"I wonder what he could ever see in her."

"She's a decent person, Catherine," Grissom said softly. She shook her head.

"I don't see it," she told him, finally biting her fork.

"They say opposites attract."

"I will give him that she's gorgeous, but she's not worth the trouble. By any means."

"To you. Greg probably sees things differently." She shrugged.

"Unless she's been sleeping with him all along, I don't see how he sees it."

* * *

Hodges watched Greg get closer and closer to Mia as their meal progressed. They were holding hands, joking, smiling. It was enough to make Hodges want to puke, but it did prove one thing- he had definitely lost. Wendy looked over at him to find him intently watching Greg and Mia. "That's so cute," she said softly.

"Cute?" Hodges asked. "Sanders and the psycho are cute?"

"Okay, she's not a psycho, first of all. She's one of my best friends. And Greg's a good guy. She deserves that much."

"You callin' her a psycho?" Bobby drawled. "Man, you're the one who's stalkin' her, callin' her all the time, emailin' her, always pagin' her with the results of the case when she's workin' with someone else who outranks her. I think you're the one that's the psycho, man."

"I'm not a psycho," Hodges grumbled.

"I don't know, Dave," Henry said. "That sounds pretty obsessive and creepy."

"I'm not obsessed."

"You called her the first night she was in Santa Monica just to ask if she missed you," Mandy said. "You're acting pretty weird about this if you're not obsessed."

"I'm concerned," Hodges snapped arrogantly. "Not obsessed."

"Concerned?" Henry asked.

"Yes."

"About what?" Wendy asked. "She decked your ass. What do you need to be concerned about?"

"Her getting hurt by some asshole like Sanders," Hodges replied.

"If Greg had it in him to hurt her, she'd kill him for it. She can take care of herself."

"Yeah, right." Hodges shut up, and Wendy studied his face before it all clicked. Los Angeles, asshole boyfriend, everything that Mia had told her. Her mouth dropped open in realization, and she shook her head.

"You're one of her exes. The one that… in L.A…."

"Shut up."

"Oh, my God. You fucking asshole."

"I didn't mean it." Hodges stood up, so as to not hear anymore and to also not have the rest of the lab knowing what she was talking about. "Thanks for dinner, guys." He dropped enough money on the table to cover himself and tip before walking out of the restaurant, to the astonishment of his colleagues.


	15. I Can't Take It

A/N: I still only own Mia, who shows a mild bit of humanity in this chapter. But don't worry, she'll be bitchy again soon. This is also the second to last chapter, sadly, so enjoy it and please review.

* * *

Chapter 14: "I Can't Take It"

Mia sat next to Greg in the break room, resting her head against his shoulder with her eyes closed as his arm lay behind her back. He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, and she shook her head. "He was a little kid," she told him softly. "And some fucking bastard mutilated the fucking hell out of him." She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Why would someone ever hurt a kid? They're innocent. They don't do anything to deserve what monsters heap upon them."

"I know," he said softly, pressing a kiss into her hair. He didn't care who saw them. The entire lab, Ecklie included, knew they were dating. Ecklie was trying to separate them, but Grissom wouldn't let him, claiming that the best place for both of them to remain was with their family on the night shift. The sheriff, surprisingly, agreed with Grissom, stating that maybe her relationship with Greg and working with him too would finally get her to stop trying to kill herself. So far, it seemed to be working, as she sat with him.

"I hate being like this." Greg chuckled.

"Sweetie, you're human, and you've seen a lot in your life. It hurts you to see others in places you've been." She sighed, shaking her head.

"You have no idea, Greg. I didn't tell you everything." He kept rubbing her shoulder.

"We'll have a while. You can tell me when you're ready." She nodded.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." They sat that way in silence for a while, with her closing her eyes once again and resettling her head on his shoulder. He kept tenderly rubbing hers, deep in thought.

It never ceased to amaze him how she opened up to him, and when she did, it was almost like she did a 180. Even before that, she seemed to be a little more tolerant of him than the others, something he chalked up to the fact that he had been more tolerant of her when she first came in. He hadn't been quick to jump to anger and hate against her, and she rewarded that with her friendship, something that he realized was hard to come by. She trusted him, and that was even more amazing than the fact that she even liked him. He hoped that they would get the chance to grow old together, whether as husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, or even just friends. He hoped she stopped being suicidal long enough for that to happen, but she'd been good lately. Maybe she was finally realizing she had something more to live for.

He sighed softly, gently pulling her closer to him. Now that he had her in his life, he didn't know what he'd do without her. She was an amazing listener, and someone he was falling in love with. She looked up at him, finding him smiling at her. She grinned, shaking her head. "Last night was that great, huh?" she quipped. He laughed.

"Well, yeah," he replied, smiling. She kissed him softly on the lips.

"Conceited much?"

"Only a little." She sat up, and Greg groaned. "I liked you there," he said.

"Too bad," she replied, stretching a bit.

"I take it your moment of humanity has passed then, hasn't it?" She chuckled, and he smiled. If anyone else had said that, she would've killed them, but because it was him, she laughed.

"Yeah." She looked him in the eye, and Greg could tell she had something she wanted to say. Something serious, probably from her past due to her hesitation, but Greg didn't let on that he had any idea. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"I-" Her statement was cut off by her pager, and she groaned. "Hodges. Better get this out of the way."

"Why does he only page you? You're even working with Grissom, and he's still going to you first with results." She shrugged.

"He's obsessed. What can I say?" He shook his head.

"Well, have fun and good luck."

"Thanks. I think I'm gonna need it." He shrugged, kissing her on the cheek before she left. She wound the halls of the lab before landing in Hodges's lab. "You rang?" she snorted.

"Yeah," Hodges said, not looking up from his microscope. "Take a look at this." She shrugged, walking over. He backed away from the bench, allowing her to get in and take a look. As she did, he grabbed her hair. "Tell me the truth, Mia," he growled into her ear. She hadn't heard him talk like that in years, and as she felt something poke into her, her breath caught in her throat. "Are you with Greg?"

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She'd dealt with rapists, murderers, drug dealers, and various other forms of scum, and none of them had the power to paralyze her like David Hodges. He sighed, kissing her neck tenderly as she felt herself weakening.

"Leave him," he whispered between kisses. She felt the barrel of a gun poking into her back, and she sighed nervously. "Leave him, or I'll kill him, so we can be together."

"I won't let you kill him," she said. "And I'm not leaving him." His hand worked at her pants, unbuttoning them. She told herself to fight, but her body wouldn't react.

"You don't want him. You want me. That's why you're not even fighting me."

"If I fight you, I lose my job."

"You're scared."

"You've got a gun."

"I like this." He moved his other hand to her waistline, and she got a chance to look at the gun in his hand. He wasn't wearing a glove, which meant that he didn't care if he got caught. Of course, doing this in the middle of the lab was another good indication that he didn't care if he got caught. She stared at the gun, a Colt .45, probably from Bobby's lab. She sighed, swallowing hard, trying to make herself fight yet again. Still nothing.

"Please, don't do this, David." He chortled, leaving her pants alone for a minute.

"You're not the one in power here, Cat. Tough pill for you to swallow, huh? When it comes right down to it, you're helpless. Actually, you could help yourself right now. Scream. Fight me. Anything. But you don't care. You want this."

"I don't." His hands gripped her hips tightly, his right pushing the gun roughly into her flesh.

"How far you gonna let this go before you realize that your job isn't worth it?"

"You're purposely taunting me." He chuckled.

"Now you're learning."

"What are you going to do to me?" He laughed.

"What do you think?" His right hand left her hip to brush the inside of her thigh, causing her breath to shudder. She struggled to fight against him, but she couldn't.

"What did you do to me?" she asked him.

"Muscle relaxant," he replied. "Means you can't fight me." She shuddered.

"Leave me alone," she warned, her voice growing louder. She wouldn't let him get away with this. The fight was returning to her, gun be damned.

"It's either you or your precious little Greg. Which would you rather?"

"Leave him out of this."

"Do you want me to hurt him, or are you going to behave? Save him, or save yourself?"

"Leave him out of this," she repeated.

"Make your choice, Catalina," Hodges said. "Save him, or save yourself?" She sighed.

"Don't hurt him," she whispered.

"Good choice."

* * *

Some time later, Grissom walked into the break room, finding Greg and Nick talking about their case while waiting for results. He sighed. "Have either of you two seen Mia?" he asked. They looked up at him.

"She got paged by Hodges about half an hour ago," Greg told him. "You haven't seen her?"

"No." Greg jumped up, worried. Nick followed suit, and the three of them walked toward the Trace lab in time to pick up an argument from within.

"You promised!" Mia called.

"I never did, Princess," Hodges replied.

"Don't do this." Her voice was pleading, something the three of them had never heard before.

"If I can't have you, then no one can." A single gunshot rang out from the lab, followed shortly by a second. And then the Trace lab was silent.


	16. Come One, Come All

A/N: I only own Mia. This is the end, folks! It's been a fun ride. This is my little Christmas present to all those who celebrate the holiday, and my gift to the rest of you just for the fun of it. :) Enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Epilogue: Come One, Come All, to this Tragic Affair

Greg sighed painfully, looking down at the casket before him. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He still couldn't believe it. He looked at Grissom, who was standing next to him. Brass wasn't too far away, either. Warrick and Tina were standing with Nick, all three of them saddened. Catherine and Lindsey stood near Grissom and Greg, crying softly. Ecklie stood alone in the back, quietly and as sad as a man with little to no heart can be. Greg brought his hands to his face briefly before raking them through his hair with a sigh.

The priest finished the final blessings over the body, and Greg looked at the family standing across from him. They were all weeping horribly, and Greg felt even worse. Here was an entire family, devastated, and he couldn't even muster up a few tears. He looked at his coworkers, who all took a moment to offer their final words to the coffin before sending the family their final condolences.

Greg sighed, walking over to the casket. "I'll never forgive you for what you did," he said softly. Brass looked at him from behind, placing his hand on the young CSI's shoulder. "I'm only here to prove that you're really gone now. That, and Ecklie made us all come. I hope you rot in hell, Hodges." He shook his head, squaring his shoulders. He knew the only person who heard his words had been Brass, as Brass squeezed his shoulder gently. He walked over, giving his condolences to the family before leaving the cemetery with his team.

He drove to the hospital after a quick stop for flowers, walking from the parking garage to the unit on the seventh floor. It was a route he'd come to memorize these past few days, since that night in the lab when Hodges shot Mia before taking his own life. She'd been unconscious since, so no one as of yet knew exactly what happened, but everyone had an idea. Still in his suit from the funeral, he strolled into Mia's room.

Startled by the intrusion into her calm, Mia turned her head quickly to the door. Seeing Greg, she relaxed, her breath making her pulse return to normal. He nearly dropped the bouquet in his hand at the sight of her awake. He put the flowers down on her bed and quickly hugged her as gently as he could. She hugged him back as tightly as she could without hurting herself.

"Thank God you're alright," he said softly. "I was so worried."

"I heard," she croaked, her voice still hoarse from the disuse of late. "Matilda told me you sweet talked the night nurses into letting you sleep here sometimes." He chuckled, smiling.

"Well, you know me." He stood awkwardly, not sure if he should sit on the bed or the chair. Even though he'd just hugged her, he still felt awkward sitting there. She watched him, and instantly knew why he was hesitating.

"I'm sorry." Greg shook his head.

"Don't be."

"He drugged me."

"I know." She nodded before patting for him to sit on her bed. "Are you okay?" She looked away as he sat down, taking her hand in his gently.

"I never thought he had it in him." Her voice was barely a whisper now, and Greg rubbed the back of her hand softly. She looked back at him, seeing the nervous expression on his face. "He didn't rape me." His nerves turned into confusion.

"He didn't?" She shook her head. "But the semen…"

"He masturbated to me standing there, half naked and terrified of what he'd do next. It's easily one of the most humiliating things I've ever experienced. You guys never did a SART, did you?"

"By the time we got to you, you'd been all cleaned up, so there wasn't a chance." She nodded. "He didn't rape you?"

"No." Greg let go of the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and Mia smiled softly. "He just…" She cut herself off, and he looked at her quietly.

"You don't have to explain anything," he said. She gave him a saddened half-smile.

"I'm gonna have to give a statement sometime, won't I?" she asked.

"Not to me. You know you never have to say anything you don't want to me." She smiled wider.

"Thanks." Greg continued rubbing the back of her hand, and Mia sighed. "Do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Come closer. Please." He smiled, nodding and sliding closer to her. She snuggled against his side, no longer caring about showing weaknesses around him. He kissed her on the top of the head, and she smiled. "However, if asked, I'll deny having ever asked you to do this."

"Oh, I know." She smiled wider.

"I'm glad you do." The pair fell quiet for a little while before curiosity got to her. "So, what are you all dressed up for, anyway?" she asked softly.

"Hodges's funeral," he droned.

"He died?" Greg nodded. "How?"

"He blew his brains out right after he shot you." She nodded, silent. "You okay?"

"I can't believe he killed himself." Greg shrugged, not sure what to say. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "He touched me." Greg nodded, swallowing. "Groped me, molested me, whatever term you want to lay to it, he did it." She opened her eyes, sadly looking at Greg.

"It's okay," he said soothingly.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I just… I let him. I didn't scream. I just let him." Greg didn't know what to say, choosing instead to kiss her temple softly. "He said he'd kill you if I didn't let him, and I couldn't let him kill you."

"It's not your fault. None of this is your fault." She was silent, her head now tucked into Greg's chest as much as possible without pain or removing tubes. Greg cradled her gently, thinking. Hodges may be gone now, but his scars would live on forever. As he sat there, holding Mia, his mind heard Grissom quoting Julius Caesar.

"The evil men do always lives after them."

The End.

* * *

A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed the ride, but be on the lookout for a sequel, to be titled "The Beaten and the Damned," scheduled to drop sometime in January (in theory). Happy holidays:) 


End file.
